Finesse
by Feffervesce
Summary: Follows Reawakening. Two unlikely characters cross paths: one of them a carefree, mischievous young man, and the other a hardened, beguiling occultist, somehow clicking in their own way, inadvertently forever changing each other's lives. Dragged into a world of lying, manipulation, piracy and potato-peeling, Julian Silverpaw and his newfound companion still make the best of it all.
1. Inheritance

**Surprise! **

**Welcome to _Finesse,_ my _Reawakening_ sequel/spinoff. This is set approximately 3 months after the 43rd chapter of Reawakening. If that's not weird and specific, I don't know what is.**

**To anyone who hasn't ready my other stories, this one is set 100 years in the future of WoW, and many things are different, such as Horde/Alliance squabbles are all but over, and it's somewhat peaceful between factions. To an extent, people from any race can travel anywhere, at least with the right parameters. It's explained a lot better in my stories.. xD**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoy.**

**This first chapter is meant to be cryptic to a certain level. Things will clear out gradually. :)**

* * *

"So let me get this straight," the human mumbled as he drummed two fingers on the edge of his windowsill, staring out into the city's stone streets one story below. A few slow seconds ticked by, and he turned his gaze back to the tall, swarthy half-elf standing in his kitchen. "My siblings and I don't see you for...how long has it been? Six years? Seven?" He removed his hand from the sill. "And the first thing you request upon your return is...money?"

Levianath took a step forward in response to the question, gaining an impish edge to his demeanor, and held out his hands to his sides.

"Ah, Jonas, brother, I am hurt you hold me in such poor regard," the half-elf clicked his tongue. His green eyes flashed. "Money's not the only thing I'm after."

Jonas stiffened. "You're no brother of mine, Levianath."

"No? We share the same mother, do we not?"

"You never even knew her," the human spat back, now quite hostile. "Now get out of my kitchen, and take your damned demon with you."

Levianath stole a glance down at Pip'tai, his imp who was standing near his ankle, currently fixated on a knot in the floorboards. Still holding a curled smirk at one corner of his thin lips, the man glanced up and let his dark eyes flick about the room. "This is a nice kitchen. You seem to be doing quite well for yourself, brother. I'm curious; how did you come into this wealth? Did you get all of this from our grandmother?"

The sable-haired human inflated again, looking about to explode now as his ears began to redden. "Get out," he pointed a long finger at the door, which Levianath had left wide open.

The Warlock didn't move. "I feel we started off on the wrong foot here," he said calmly, keeping his smirk, and he stepped forward again. "All I want to know is where you're getting all the money. I feel like it's only fair I inherit my share of whatever it is my siblings receive."

"Like I said," Jonas stumbled over those words as Levianath took another step forward, but he did hold his ground. "You're no sibling of mine. You get nothing."

Levianath came to a slow stop in front of his older brother, peering down at the human with a pert stare. "Just think of what our mother would say if she saw you now."

The human simply glared, unable to generate words through his irritation, and cringed when Levianath reached out and gathered a stray hair off of Jonas's shoulder, picking it up between his thumb and index and inspecting it, before setting it free in a wayward descent toward the floor.

"I've already spoken to our brother and sisters," Levianath hummed, folding his hands together behind his back and turning on his heel, walking a small circle around the human. Once he'd gone halfway, he stopped, squinting a moment. "They all said to come to you. Mentioned something about an inheritance. And, well, you're the oldest, so I suspected you'd have what I'm looking for."

"You deserve absolutely none of it," Jonas snapped.

Levianath brightened. "Aha! So there _is_ an inheritance! Good to know!" He walked back around to face his half-brother, leaning in close. "Now, if you'll just tell me where I can find it, I'll be out of your hair."

Jonas, fuming, glared ahead. "It's not even here. We haven't gotten all of it yet."

"So you're telling me our sweet, dear old grandmother still has it?" Levianath smirked. "And here I momentarily deemed you a worthy crook."

"I'm not a crook."

"But you're stealing her money, yes? Does this not make you one?"

Jonas stiffened. "Who told you we were stealing it?"

"No one had to tell me; it was obvious."

Laughing to himself at the flustered expression on his half-brother's face, the Warlock sauntered back to the other side of the kitchen, nearing the archway that led through a short hall to the still-open door. He paused in it, turning back around.

"I do hope you lead a fulfilling life, brother. As short as I pray it may be."

With that he turned and left, beckoning Pip'tai to follow after him.

* * *

Levianath walked through the Stormwind streets toward the city gates, drawing his dark hood over his ink-black hair to shield from rain that had begun to fall in the past few minutes. His eyes shimmered a fel green, their light shining out into the rain, and his boots hit the stone beneath them in sharp beats as he kept his pace reasonably fast. He didn't care about rain; it didn't bother him in the slightest. But he did care about taking what he deserved, and that's what he was going to do.

After walking through the slowly-darkening Elwynn forests, he reached his grandmother's place shortly, and discreetly let himself in a side door, dismissing his demon for the time being. The woman had no idea her grandson had taken up Warlock practices, and he highly doubted she'd give him the time of day if she knew.

She was a pleasant lady though, if a bit dense, and years earlier, the last time he'd seen her, he'd sworn she was days from her death bed. But apparently she was still kicking, which he had to admit he admired. No one really wants to die, and those who fight against it as hard as his grandmother, well, they earned his respect.

Or, at least, as much respect as he could muster, which honestly wasn't all that much.

Every room was lit with at least one lamp or crystal as he walked through a long corridor, peeking into each one as he passed them. He found her sitting in an open porch-like sunroom at the far end of the house, a book resting in her lap and steaming tea on the table beside her, of which he could smell the herbal brew with his sharp nose.

He stopped in the doorway, raising one closed fist up to the frame and knocking on it twice. Her head turned toward him, and as her aged eyes fell on him, he saw a bright smile cover her face.

"My grandson!" she exclaimed, easily standing from her chair and shuffling over to him, slightly hunched with her age, and without question she drew him into her short arms. "Shame on you for not visiting me sooner!"

He was surprised she even recognized him. Last he'd seen her, he was just under eighteen years old. Six years gone by, and he'd transformed into an entirely different man. He shrugged as she pulled away.

"I've been busy. You know, with all the endless working and the traveling. Years fly by with hard work." He didn't work, nor did he really travel like he claimed, but she didn't know that.

She clicked her tongue. "Oh, if only your siblings were more like you," she shook her head, slowly shuffling back over to her seat. "You work so hard."

He nodded emphatically, and then sat down across from her on an old, floral sofa. "Grandmother, I have something to tell you," he said in a wary tone.

"Do tell me, child, but please speak up," she coaxed.

He cleared his throat. "About my siblings… I spoke to them today. I overheard some of them talking…" he paused for effect, and leaned in, lowering his voice but still keeping it loud enough for her to hear. "I think they're planning on stealing from you."

"Stealing?" she burst, and her brows lifted. "From me? Why?"

"Why does anyone steal?" he retorted.

A moment passed, and then she just laughed. "They can try, but they won't find my hoard."

Levianath had heard of this before, her secret supply of money. He knew she was a wealthy woman; one look at her estate and it was obvious. But neither he nor his siblings had ever found out where she kept it.

"Why not?" he pressed.

"Because it's in the one place none of them would look!" she exclaimed, taking a sip of her tea. "Because it's so obvious and cliché that none of them would think to check under my porch. It's been there for years and years, untouched."

Jackpot. Levianath was beyond shocked he'd gotten it out of her so easily.

He smiled, though it wasn't genuinely directed toward her. "You're right, that is a good spot. They won't find it there."

She reached out and patted his cheek with one withered hand. "I'm so proud of you, my little elfling grandson. You're so different from the others. You're a good boy."

He smiled again, the gesture believable but thin. "I wanted to warn you… you know how they can be."

The woman laughed. "I just don't understand why they want to _steal_ it all. I'll be pushing daisies in a year, for goodness' sake, and they'll inherit all of it, plus this estate. How selfish they must be."

"They are selfish," Levianath said somberly.

She nodded, and he stood back up.

"Well, it's getting late; I haven't the time to stay, grandmother, but I did want to warn you about them," he stated, stretching his arms out to the sides.

She nodded again, smiling at him. "Thank you, dear, but don't worry. I know those kids are handfuls."

He bid her farewell, leaving her in her sunroom and walking back through to the opposite end of the house and out the door. Off to the side, he saw the porch she was talking about, and he approached it silently. It was made of large, thin slabs of stone stacked upon bricks, and with some difficulty, he finally managed to find one that was slightly loose by stepping around on each one.

He peered in the only window that could pose a hazard, and he saw the coast was clear. It was getting dark out anyways, so no one would see him.

His fingers curled down around the thick, loose slab. He pulled it up hard, shifting it over, and it made a scraping noise as it slid against the other slabs. Underneath it was an open space. He peered down into it.

A legitimate smile slid over his lips, and his eyes flashed as he reached in and grabbed the large, stiffly-woven sack that easily weighed thirty pounds, slugging it up out of the hole. It made a jangling sound, the coins in the bag shifting, music to his ears, and he hoisted it to the side, letting it slump onto the ground beside him. He slid the slab back into place, and dusted everything off to erase signs of his presence.

He threw the bag of coins over one shoulder, holding the cinch in one hand as he took off back into the city to the bank.

He'd just come into a hefty sum of money, and he needed to secure it.

* * *

**So, our next chapter reintroduces a lovable character from _Reawakening_. Stay tuned. :)**


	2. Sibling Rivalry

**Okay so wanna know something fun? The plot of this story and Levianath's character idea both popped into my head while I was listening to _Love Runs Out_ by One Republic for the first time. I have no idea why, because they're really not related at all. But now when it comes on the radio, I think about this story. xD**

* * *

**Review Responses:**

**Willowstar: Hahah, if it makes you feel any better I'd _just_ started this one. xD**

**Suneeku: Oh yeah, she's like... super dumb. Senile old bat. And I'm planning on making this one like half the length, hopefully. As long as I can learn how to condense my writing. If that's too ambitious, I can at least say in all honesty that it'll be shorter than Reawakening.**

**NyteKnight: Oh yes, he's a looker for sure. All sinister and smile-y. *grins***

**CherryMountain: Magically delicious! Haha yess! And hi OnyxRing! :)**

**The Corrupted Typer: Hey! :D Glad you like it and yes Julian's definitely going to be awesome.**

**Kintaraheart: Julian and Levianath are going to kick so much butt! GON' BE FUN. :D**

* * *

**Anywho, enjoy!**

* * *

The streets were beginning to clear out now as Levianath stepped out of the bank and into the Dwarven District. He stuffed his bank receipt into his backpack, folding it into one of the small pockets, and took a deep, free breath.

The money was now secured, and already Levianath felt freer than he had in ages. He could do whatever he wanted, go wherever he wanted. He felt confident. Now that he could buy nice clothes and present himself as a respectable individual, people wouldn't view him like vermin. This was the best he'd felt in, well, ever.

The sun had already set halfway past the horizon, and the sky was painted a dusky pink, as well as the rooftops. The air was chilly now after the rain had passed an hour earlier, and the rejuvenating scent of petrichor clung to every stone in the city.

He had a coin purse brimming with gold, and as he came to stop at the end of the wide stairs in front of the bank, he took in a deep breath. A smile tugged at his lips, and he beckoned Pip'tai to follow at his heel as he started off into the street. He had so many options of what he could do now. He didn't even know where to start. He could go off and travel, or maybe buy a place of his own, or…

He passed by a fruit and cheese vendor and paused.

Or he could eat, first things first. The vendor appeared to be closing up shop, and Levianath approached quickly.

"You still selling?" he coaxed, and the vendor shook his head as he snapped the cart shut and released the wheel brakes.

"Closed today, elf. You want food, check that tavern across the street."

Levianath grimaced. Tavern food was nothing compared to fresh fruits, plus he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the type that taverns tended to attract. At least not tonight, not when his spirits were high. Something about bars always had him either ending up in an unwinnable, outmatched fight, or black-out drunk, or gambling all of his money away. If he was unlucky, it was all three at once.

The vendor caught Levianath's look and shrugged, then pointed off toward the large archway leading out of the district and into a wooded north.

"If you're set on fruit, I get half my wares from the orchard there. The food is always of pristine quality. It's run by elves; they're up all hours. I'm sure they'll sell to you, if you're desperate."

Levianath cocked one brow, glancing off toward the orchard. He knew of the place. Everyone knew of the Silverpaw orchard. The orchard where the high-and-mighty, flower-happy Druids all lived in 'perfect harmony' and all that night elf idiocy. He didn't know any of the people there, but already he'd made his judgment. The people were probably just as stuck up and shitty as everyone else in the world. If they were night elves, they'd probably take one look at him and snub him, as all elves did. Being the offspring of a human and a blood elf is not something to be proud of, especially not around those elves.

He'd heard that the tribe did accept all races and backgrounds, but he'd determined that was a load of bull. What kind of society accepts _anyone_?

He simply shrugged. Whatever. He had money, and he could do what he wanted, within reason. If he wanted fruit, he could go get fruit. Why should he let his long-ingrained lack of confidence in others deter him from taking what he wanted, especially if it was something so minuscule as wanting fruit?

He dismissed Pip'tai again, at the demon's muttering, cursing acquiescence. The people at the orchard were Druids, and he knew they didn't appreciate the fel arts, just as he didn't appreciate Druidic ones. He walked down a long stretching slope toward the orchard. He saw only one direct entrance, lit by cool lanterns, a path beneath the dense trees. When he reached it, he peered off down the path and then set off along its winding slopes. Both sides were lit up by radiant plants and lanterns, and colorful moths fluttered about the lights. Despite himself, he was enjoying it more than he should've been, but he chocked that up to his sudden boost in finances.

There was no one around, but this was on the contrary a pleasant turn of events. He hadn't felt so greatly at peace since roughly five years ago, when he'd been with what's-her-face, his ex-wife, a blonde-haired, petite beauty named Gwynne. There'd been a scenic period of absolute peace with her, a good year of hard work and feeling like he belonged. But that'd been short-lived.

_She's not your wife anymore_, he reminded himself bitterly. _And good riddance._

He thought about when the femme fatale kicked him out just as soon as the two were finally in a comfortable setting. He'd built her a _house_, for goodness' sake, and worked his ass off to support the two of them. During that time though, he'd been happy. An eighteen-year-old man with a wife and a house, seemingly in an environment that he was safe in, an environment in which he didn't feel hated by the people who lived with him. It'd been the first time he felt in charge of his own life and didn't feel repressed by his hateful older siblings or his apathetic grandmother. Levianath had worked countless hours to pay off Gwynne's debts to her profession instructors, and in return, once she'd gotten her training and would have a steady income, they'd switch turns, and he'd go out and train in his own profession while she supported _him_.

But then as soon as she finished her apprenticeship, as soon as she started getting paid herself and didn't need his help, she all but literally kicked him out the door. And don't even get him started on the fact that within the week she had another man moved into the house he had built for her.

What a girl, huh? He supposed it was he the fool for marrying so early and falling so easily for her.

Levianath shook his head with a wry smirk. He'd changed a lot since then. He'd become a lot tougher, hardened, and his level of trust in others was so low it hit the negatives on the scales. It was safer this way.

Plus, on the bright side, in his wandering the past few years, he'd discovered fel magic, his new favorite pastime. He'd dabbled with it for a time, and although he hadn't had true Warlock training, he'd developed the skills and powers on his own. He'd made pacts with demons and even trained himself to summon a contracted imp, his companion demon, Pip'tai. Pip'tai had taught him a lot, and although the two had an odd relationship, one somewhere between hatred and grudging tolerance, Levianath did feel a fondess for the creature. He was, in a weird, fucked up way, Levianath's only friend.

And the only friend he wanted, too, for that matter.

Levianath smirked as he kept along the path, laughing to himself on his thoughts. He came upon one of the most massive, looming trees he'd ever seen in his life, and he halted, craning his head up to try to catch the top of it, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't. Its branches were dense, and he could see windows and balconies dotting up its sides.

A woman's voice made him pause.

"Can I help you?"

He glanced over in her direction. Her voice was cheerful, and he was shocked to see she was a blood elf. Or, at least, he was pretty sure she was one, but her eyes were different somehow. Not quite the fel green. More of a golden-silver color, akin to the highborne. She had sleek red hair pulled back in a long braid, and an intense, vertical scar down the left side of her face.

Levianath straightened up, giving her a peculiar look, but cleared his throat.

"I um," he stuttered, at a loss for words, though he wasn't sure why. He cleared his throat again. "Yes, actually. I'm here for fruit."

Her brows lifted. "Fruit?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I have money. I heard you sell to vendors."

She looked like she was trying to quell a laugh, and she just nodded. "I wouldn't peg you for a vendor. A little late for transactions wouldn't you say?" She shrugged. "Alright, well," she pointed down another path. "That pathway leads to our storage shelters. We have burlap sacks for buying in bulk. We've only got winter stock right now, no summer fruits. Get what you want and then return back to this tree here. Ask anyone around for me. I'll be closeby, and we can figure out a price. Sound good?"

He eyed her sideways. "How can I ask for you if I don't know your name?"

"Norivana," she replied simply. She cocked her head at him. "And you are?"

"Just here to buy fruit," he said after a second of hesitation. She sent him a hesitant nod, and with that he then turned on his heels and started down the path.

He reached the storage bins. No one was around, and he pursed his lips as he inspected the door. It was padlocked, something he doubted that woman, Norivana, had foreseen. Or maybe she'd forgotten about it.

No matter, though. He wouldn't be deterred by a dinky lock and didn't feel like walking all the way back for help. He'd mastered lockpicking long ago, as well as a trick of his own that helped in a pinch.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around the padlock, drawing his fingers tightly into a fist. He began muttering under his breath, a mixture of binding spells and self-developed curses, until he felt his arm suddenly infuse with the strength of a demon he'd summoned at his will. He could feel the hatred seething off of the creature as he controlled it, and he felt his lips curl in a dark smile.

"Break it," he ordered, and the demon let out a furious, spiteful string of demonic malediction as it began to tighten its fist around the lock, obviously incensed at being summoned for such a menial task.

A few seconds later, the lock snapped, and Levianath released his hold on the demon, who immediately vanished in a flurry of angry, personal slights.

He made to open the door, but before he could even pull the latch, he felt two large hands clap on his shoulders, and he startled, whipping around. Two men, both of whom couldn't be older than Levianath himself, were glaring at him, and he swallowed, squaring his shoulders. Why were these Druids so big?

One of them, a man with navy hair, sounded accusing.

"You robbing us?" the guy demanded.

Levianath scoffed sarcastically. "Of fruit? Who steals fruit?"

"It's not the first time it's happened before," the kid retorted. He jerked his head to the side. "How about you just take off, bud? We don't want trouble."

"No, _bud_, I'd like to get my fruit," Levianath replied, still toying. He _could_ tell them he was actually buying it, but where would be the fun in that?

"Come on," the guy coaxed in a calm tone, reaching out again to take Levianath's arm, but Levianath recoiled.

"Keep your hands off, Druid," he warned. "I don't like to be touched when I'm hungry." He wasn't sure why he was being so touchy, but the Druid was annoying him.

This made the other guy bristle. "You need to leave, kid."

"Aye, and I will," Levianath assured him, and his eyes flashed as he turned back toward the shed. "Just as soon as I've gotten my fruit."

The guy's hand looped out and grabbed Levianath's arm, and he let his breath out, tensing up. He felt his annoyance pique, and without further warning, he spun around and swung his tightened fist toward the Druid's face.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

Undeterred by the cold, early spring air, Julian felt himself becoming more and more doused in sweat as he ran his nightly round through the forest, keeping his breathing hard and level and his stride strong. His mentor and godfather, Glenn Verdell, had been helping train him to regain his physical strength, something he'd lost due to an unfortunate incident involving himself, an angry forest, and a ten-month coma. Julian had lost nearly a full year of his life, and the past near-year of recovery had been tough to regain it all. One of the only things he felt he had control of was himself, and so that's what he focused on.

He'd done surprisingly well thus far on gaining his weight and muscle back to his former self. It required a lot of eating, a lot of exercise, and then more eating. Not to mention, eating. He was to the point now where he was actually bigger now than he was when he'd fallen into a coma, which he took as a major triumph. Of course, a lot of that had to do with him having grown a lot, too, but he liked to think he was making a difference as well.

He continued to dash through the trees at a good, fast pace. He was going on his third consecutive mile now without stopping, and he was pretty sure he could go ten more if absolutely necessary. Elves were built as runners, and he had great lung capacity. The exercise hurt, but it was a good pain.

He rounded a subtle bend in the path and saw something concerning by the food sheds, so he immediately slowed to a brisk jog, then stopped as he finally realized what was really going on.

Two of his friends, guys his age named Branneth and Ivin, were completely engaged in an all-out brawl against another elf Julian didn't know. At the sight, Julian was both worried and entertained.

"Hey!" he shouted, though he continued to laugh nervously as he ran over to them. "What the hell is going on, guys?"

His voice caused enough of a distraction that the two guys' target, the unknown elf, paused, and Branneth took advantage of the split-second by looping his arm around the elf's neck and catching him in a choke hold.

"Brann, what's going on?" Julian demanded, still panting from his run, and he braced his hands on his hips as he took deep breaths.

Branneth grimaced, trying to hold onto the guy tighter as the elf continued to squirm and attack. Both Branneth and Ivin had bloody lips and noses, and Brann especially had a growing black eye.

"We caught him stealing," he replied.

Julian frowned. "Stealing..." he glanced around Branneth, then quirked a brow. "Fruit?"

Branneth nodded, and Ivin piped up.

"If it makes a difference, he hit first."

"Let him go," Julian said simply.

Brann didn't budge. "He tried to steal, Julian, I don-"

Julian cut him off. He knew Brann was the type to start a brawl over something trivial like this. "Branneth. Release him. I don't think we'll fall apart if we're missing a few pieces of fruit," he laughed.

Brann grumbled, but thankfully after a few seconds, let his arm slacken. The black-haired blood elf immediately jerked free, sucking in a breath of fresh air and turning on Brann, fists rising offensively.

"Hey!" Julian barked at the blood elf, who at the exclamation, paused his attack. He turned his head back toward Julian, and Julian frowned at the look on the man's face: a hint of spite, sarcasm, and above all, suspicion.

Julian looked at Brann and Ivin. "Go on ahead, you two. I'll take it from here."

Ivin looked about to retort, but Julian shook his head at him to interrupt.

"Really. Go." He waved a hand toward the main tree.

Brann and Ivin took off in painful limps toward the tree, and Julian regarded the unfamiliar elf with a hidden smile. The man was wearing old, dark clothing and looked pretty worn. Julian wouldn't be surprised if he were homeless. He had a gauntness to his face, and Julian couldn't decide whether it was due to the fel energy that permeated from him and burned in his eyes, or malnutrition. The guy _was_ addicted to the energy though, that part was obvious, and he'd clearly seen the rougher sides of life.

"So..." Julian lifted a brow, respecting the guy's distance. "Hungry?"

The man lifted his chin, eyeing Julian sideways, and straightened up, rolling his shoulders back and smoothing his rumpled shirt.

"Well, I'd...like a piece of fruit."

Smirking, Julian nodded his head toward the shed. "Go on, then. Take what you need."

The man looked skeptical and smirked back. "You know, I'm not actually stealing. I do have money," he said, and Julian saw him lift up a small satchel from his belt and shake it once. It jingled with the musical sound of coins.

"For a few pieces of fruit?" Julian laughed. "We've got more than we need. Don't worry about it." He pushed past the blood elf and opened the door wide, and it creaked in the process. He peered inside, reaching in and grabbing a small crate by its handle and pulling it out. It held about fifteen snow plums, one of his favorite snacks.

He held the crate out to the battered elf. "Here."

The elf appeared hesitant, but he did finally take one of them into his hand. "Snow plum?"

"Yeah, you like 'em?"

"Never had one."

Julian smiled. "Today's your lucky day." He closed the door, keeping the crate in his arm, and reached for the padlock, but realized it'd been broken. Not only broken, but completely crunched. "Whoa," he smirked. "You've got some strength on you." He took a mental note of the fact that a guy who wanted to pay for his meal was probably not the type to break in to get it.

The elf still hadn't taken a bite, and he too looked down at the padlock. Julian swore he saw a streak of dark humor flit across the elf's face before it was replaced by a simple look and a shrug.

Julian shrugged too. "Ehh. It was a shit padlock. Been needing to replace it anyway." He reached into the crate and grabbed a plum for himself, taking a giant bite. Some of the juice ran down his chin, and he wiped it with his sleeve.

Julian spoke through his mouthful, something his mother would scold him for if she saw him. "Best fruit you'll ever taste," he tried to sound coaxing, and he was pretty sure he'd succeeded.

The elf finally, falteringly took a small bite of the round fruit. Julian watched him with animated, raised brows and a grin.

"So?"

The elf, still not really smiling, at least returned with a shrug. "It's good."

Julian held out the crate. "I've got more. You can store it in your backpack if you want."

Now, the elf began to look extremely suspicious, and he eyed the fruit oddly. "Why are you just giving all of that away?"

Julian thought a moment. He was pretty sure that if he told the elf the truth, that he felt sorry for him, that the guy would turn down the offer. "I dunno," he finally shrugged. "It's my favorite fruit. I like when other people like what I like." He leaned in, speaking mischievously. "Plus, it's sort of a big 'fuck you' to the two guys who got on you for stealing earlier."

The elf's brows lifted as he stared at Julian with a mixed expression, and then finally for the first time, the man smiled fully, and took another bite. "Well in that case," he snickered. "I'll take the whole crate."

Julian smiled and handed it to the guy.

"So where you headed to?" Julian asked. "You've got the look of a traveler."

The man shrugged as he started to place the fruit into his bag. "No idea. Somewhere."

This all but confirmed Julian's suspicions that the guy had nowhere to call home. The guy clearly had _some_ money, whatever was in that coin satchel, but he began to think maybe the man had come about those coins by sketchy means.

He thought a moment. "How about you stay here just for a night before setting off in the morning? We've got a hell of a lot of extra rooms here, and it'd be no trouble. It's a lot better than rooming in the inns or taverns."

The guy immediately put up walls. "No," Julian saw the guy's shoulders tense. "I'd rather not."

"How come?"

"Too many...people."

Julian nodded, a little intrigued, and just laughed. "How many is too many?"

"Anybody more than just myself," the guy retorted.

Julian bit back another snicker and nodded. "Alright, can't argue with that."

The guy glanced to the side, looking like he was just about ready to leave, but Julian cleared his throat and spoke again.

"So what's your name?"

His fel green eyes flicked back to Julian, eyeing him for a couple seconds.

"Levianath," he finally said. "Levianath Darkrunner."

Julian smiled brightly. "Cool. I'm Julian Silverpaw."

He saw Levianath smirk sarcastically and glance to the side again, almost as if rolling his eyes. "Of course I'd meet a Silverpaw."

Julian, laughing, cocked his head. "You sure you don't want to just crash here tonight? I'm dead serious when I say we have extra space. Seriously. One night, and if you hate it that much, you can leave whenever you want."

The man sighed, glanced behind himself for good measure, and then gave Julian a direct look. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Julian assured. "I just… I dunno, man. I don't like seeing people wander, I guess."

Levianath squinted his eyes skeptically, staring at Julian intensely, and Julian simply returned the look with a big, wide grin.

"C'mon!" the kid coaxed, and finally, hesitantly, Levianath gave in, falling into step. The two walked back to the tree, feeling triumphant, and Julian made sure Levianath was given one of the best spare rooms they had.

* * *

One of the first things Julian learned the next day was that Levianath Darkrunner was _not_ a morning person. Julian had been awake with the sun, ready to take on the day, but his new-found charity case didn't crawl out of his room until near noon, and even then, he still looked beyond exhausted, and any interaction Julian even tried to attempt on him fell short with nothing more than a scathing sneer.

However, Julian did also quickly learn that in order to remedy Levianath's porcupine-like 'morning' tendencies, all it required was one big cup full of black, fresh-brewed hot coffee. Not a lot of the tribesmembers drank coffee, but they did have it stocked, and Julian had retrieved it as a last resort.

With the coffee, Levianath was slowly waking up, and seemed legitimately grateful for the drink. Which, at that point, meant that he wasn't bristling and snapping rude remarks at everything Julian said.

Julian sat beside the groggy elf, hiding his smile.

"Did you even sleep?"

"I hadn't slept in days, and then I slept too much," Levianath retorted.

"Ouch," Julian groaned.

Levianath sniffed once. "Yeah."

Julian saw the blood elf's eyes scanning the area astutely, seeming intense, almost jumpy. Out of curiosity, Julian finally asked the question he'd been itching to ask.

"So...what's your story?" he wondered. "Where you from?"

"My story?" Levianath hummed distantly. "Let's see. How about we start at my roots. My human mom's been dead since I was born, human dad's in jail for killing said mom, never knew my real blood elf father. Yesterday was the first time I'd seen my grandmother in six years and it was the first time she'd shown any liking toward me. My siblings hate me, too, so yesterday I stole all of their inheritance money. I've got well over fifty thousand in the bank now. So easy to say I've had it pretty great."

Shocked, Julian almost snorted laughing, even though he felt terrible for it. "You're serious?" Out of courtesy, he tried desperately to sober up. "I mean, that's terrible about all of that, and such a shame about the…murder. And the whole issue with your siblings. That's terrible too. But are you _serious?!_"

Levianath had clearly not been expecting laughter, and he responded positively by laughing as well. "Dead serious. And I'm sure my siblings will be after me soon enough. I know they were planning on stealing the money anyways, but I got to it first."

"Wait, who was the inheritance from?" Julian asked humorously.

"My grandmother."

"You stole fifty thousand gold units from your _grandma?!"_

Levianath nodded calmly. "Yes."

Julian shook his head. "You're my hero, dude."

Levianath sent him a peculiar glance. "Yours is not the reaction I anticipated."

"I'm not one to judge," Julian shrugged his arms out, palms-up. "They all hate you? Screw 'em."

Levianath smiled, and that was the end of the conversation. They sat there with scarce conversation for a good hour before Levianath had finally received the full effects of his coffee, and he stood up.

"Thanks for the room," he said, and he hoisted his backpack up over his shoulders. "And the fruit."

Julian nodded. "Yeah... About that fruit. Last night, my mom, Norivana, had thought you were a vendor. That's why she was going to make you buy the food. Otherwise she'd have just given it away."

"Hm," was all Julian got in response, and then Levianath turned to leave.

Julian stood as well, taking the guy's side. "So where are you headed?" he asked curiously.

Levianath paused, taking a deep breath, and turned back to Julian. "Listen, kid, these questions are pointless," the man said patiently but quickly. "You've been great. Thanks for all the help, really. Never would've expected that from someone like you. But you've done all you can do, and I'm taking off. Never coming back. No use becoming friends if I'm leaving for good."

Julian took all this in with a frown, but he quickly recovered and nodded cheerfully. "Alright, man," he said genially, holding out his hand to shake. "It's been fun."

"Cheers," the swarthy elf took his hand, returning the shake.

Julian smiled brightly. "Good luck."

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

Levianath had intended to hop on the first ship west he could find, but something about his day caused him to end up in the Pig and Whistle tavern, where his sole goal was that of becoming black-out drunk. And needless to say, he was (give or take) three pints shy of reaching that objective. He'd been sitting at the bar nearly the entire evening, his attention falling exclusively upon his own thoughts as the people around him came and went, a few of them attempting small talk with him but ultimately failing when he refused to participate.

He reached a point where he needed to leave though, just when the bar was starting to fill with loud, drunk people who picked fights for no reason other than to feel validated or justified in their own contorted ways. He scooted his chair back, paid his tab, and left the inn promptly. He walked a ways off to the side and reached into his bag, retrieved a hand-rolled cigarette from his pack, ignited it with fel fire, and placed it between his lips. The smoke curled from his nose as he let his eyes fall shut and let his head lean back against the wall as well, listening to the peaceful silence of the nighttime city, save for the muffled shouts coming from the tavern.

Eventually his cigarette had reached its end, and he promptly snuffed it with his boot and began walking through Old Town, trying to decide where to go. He was intoxicated enough that his demeanor was scattered, but sober enough that he wasn't stumbling through the streets.

After only about thirty seconds' worth of wandering out into the street though, he braced one elbow against the stone wall of a long arch, taking a deep, full breath of the night air to clear his head. He'd done his share of sleeping in streets; he just had to find a discreet location where the guards wouldn't snuff him out at five in the morning. He didn't feel like sleeping in a tavern, and although he had money, he just didn't feel like going through all the trouble of using it yet.

He began to wander again, reaching yet another district to the north, one that smelled strongly of charcoal and dust and fire. During nights, the Dwarven District was shockingly clear of its well-known smoky air, as most smiths didn't prefer to work the forges past sunset. This made the district shockingly pleasant to pass through.

However, Levianath found himself stumbling upon yet another tavern. The sound, lights, and smell of food and alcohol gave it away, and as he reached it, he stopped there in the street when he saw a two people exiting, recognition and concern flashing over his face. It was one of his older human brothers, a colossal man named Malcolm, with a woman Levianath didn't know.

Malcolm didn't even notice Levianath standing there as he stumbled out of the door, and Levianath's brows tightened when he saw how Malcolm's hand was crushing the woman's forearm like a vice. The woman's cheeks were tear-streaked, and her braid was disheveled. Despite how little he wanted to admit it, the woman's appearance reminded him of his ex, and as much as he hated Gwynne, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy toward her doppelganger for such unnecessarily rude treatment.

Malcolm's voice was harsh and slurred. "What do you think I brought you here for in the first place?" he hissed.

"I-" the woman blubbered, "I don't know Malcolm, I thought-"

Malcolm audibly growled. "You thought that once we got here you could run off and throw your goods at every other piss-headed fool here?" He threw her arm back at her, causing her to stumble. Levianath sucked in a breath. If this were just any couple, he wouldn't feel so involved. But this was his half brother here being the alcoholic asshole he was, and Levianath began to bristle, taking a hesitant step forward. Malcolm was already a jerk without his drink, but with it? He was a monster.

The woman let out a sniffle. "No, Malcolm. I wasn't-"

"Shut your damn mouth when I'm speaking," Malcolm snapped, taking another step forward.

Her lips were quivering when she closed them, and Leivanath grimaced at the sight. It was almost too common a sight here: the rough preying on the weak. If the woman had been standing her ground, Levianath wouldn't have thought to get involved, but she seemed helpless.

Malcolm growled again. "We're going to go back in there, and you're going to shut your mouth and know your place," he snapped, and grabbed her arm.

"Malcolm, please, I don't wan-" she began to speak, but to Levianath's sudden fury, he saw the man swing his arm out and catch the woman's cheek with the back of his palm. She cried out and then clamped her hands over her mouth and face, biting back her cries.

Levianath let his anger ignite, feeling the glow of his eyes burn as he finally snapped.

"Now _that_ is no way to treat a person," Levianath announced from where he'd been standing, and advanced quickly toward his brother, who looked surprised and confused at Levianath's presence.

Malcolm stood to full height, peering down at his half-elf brother with pure contempt, but Levianath wasn't fazed. He glared at Malcolm darkly, drawing dark energy through his fingertips, and let it begin to engulf his hands and forearms with a shadowy flame that flickered in the green of the fel energy at his disposal. Years ago, Levianath would've been afraid of the man, afraid to stand up to him, but now, things were different. He wasn't the same scared, beaten child he used to be. He had power.

"Your little tricks have never scared me, kid," Malcolm spat a glob onto the street. "Piss off. This is none of your business."

"You lay your vile fingers on your friend again, it is." Levianath let his magic intensify and felt it giving off a peculiar, draining aura.

Malcolm cocked his head, sneering and speaking condescendingly. "Aw. You like her? You like the pretty girl? Why don't you marry her? We both know how well the last one turned out." Malcolm glanced at the woman and reached out, grabbing her chin with his large hands and squeezing her cheeks, wrenching her face toward Levianath. "See, she even sort of looks like your beloved Gwynne."

Levianath growled, his patience snapping entirely. He hadn't let his anger hit him like this in ages, and he was surprised at how easily it'd been triggered. Then again, he hadn't been around his siblings in a long time either, and he knew the two were related.

"Alright," he craned his neck to the side and felt a satisfying few crackles. "See that right there? That's your vile fingers. On her. Again. Now it's my business." His shadow bolts flared up into volatile, angry, churning orbs of pure, negative energy in his hands.

He saw Malcolm angrily suck in a short breath and start to advance, but the human didn't have more than half a second to react before Levianath threw two shadow bolts straight at him. Malcolm let go of the woman just as the magic caught him square in the nose, crackling outward and causing him to immediately stiffen. He began to stumble backward, careening dangerously far. Levianath was personally a bit surprised at how effective the minor bursts of magic were, but he chocked it up to Malcolm being so drunk that even something like a physical punch would probably knock him out for twelve straight hours.

So, that's what Levianath decided to do. He took swift, storming steps forward, cocked his fist, and threw it straight into disoriented Malcolm's jaw. Malcolm stumbled again, but Levianath caught him by the collar of his shirt with his left hand. He brought his face close, giving his now-terrified half-brother a dry grin.

"I hope this hurts you as much as it pleases me," he uttered through clenched teeth, and then connected his fist hard against Malcolm's nose.

Malcolm hit the ground with a heavy thud, and Levianath hissed inwardly at his knuckles, but otherwise felt more or less extremely satisfied. This was Malcolm, the creature who'd countless times beaten him to a pulp for no reason whatsoever. Malcolm, who was absolutely and down to definition a bully. This was the first time Levianath had ever really stood up to him, and he had to admit it was damn overdue.

As was expected, the woman didn't even take time to thank him; she just took off running. Levianath didn't blame her, and he hoped she'd stay away from Malcolm from now on, but his past experiences told him that she'd be back with Malcolm in no time.

Levianath peered down at the unconscious drunk at his feet and smirked to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets and deciding that it was definitely time for bed now. He'd had enough excitement.

Turns out he couldn't catch a break, though.

To the side, the tavern door opened, revealing a loud voice that made Levianath's blood run cold.

"Malcolm what's taking you so long?" Levianath's oldest brother Jonas stepped out of the building, followed by not one, not two, but three other men, along with two women. No one in that crowd looked like they belonged on the civilian side of things, rather some sort of violent gang. They were muscled, big, and somewhat rough-looking. How in the hell someone as simple as Jonas got involved with them, he had no clue.

Levianath swallowed, taking a few steps backward in attempts to possibly avoid notice, but one look from Jonas and he knew he'd made a mistake. Jonas glanced down at his unconscious brother, and then back up at Levianath, his eyes beginning to spark with anger.

"I've been looking for you," Jonas hissed, fingers curling at his sides as he stepped forward. His five friends followed behind him wordlessly.

"Have you?" Levianath lifted his brows. "I must say that's surprising, brother. You've never given a damn about me before."

"I know what you stole," Jonas continued, ignoring what he'd said. "And we want it back."

"Stole? I wouldn't go _that_ far," Levianath countered, smirking. "Think of it as…compensation! For having to grow up with you lot."

Jonas advanced another long step. "Where is the money?"

"I made sure to tuck it away somewhere safe so you'll never touch it."

"Where?" Jonas growled.

"I've secured it. Three different accounts, two separate banks. Locks are magic, bound by blood." Levianath grinned. "So, yes. You'll never touch it." He hesitated a second, and then lifted one brow. "But how in the world did you find out about this so quickly? Does this mean that you too were planning on stealing it?" He clicked his tongue scoldingly. "Bad Jonas."

The human looked too pissed to speak and took another step forward, and Levianath relinquished himself backward. He was outmatched; even his magic wouldn't do a thing, especially if someone here also possessed any abilities. Maybe he should've been working less to piss off his brother and more to find an escape route.

He glanced to the left and realized he'd worked himself into a dead end. He was cornered, to put it simply.

He spoke quickly, taking another step backward as Jonas advanced angrily. "Now, brother, I'd love to hang out here in this dark, creepy street with you and your…unique friends, but I just remembered I have a different, far less dire situation I need to be in. So if you'll excuse me," he inched sideways. "I'll be going, now."

"Not so fast," Jonas growled, throwing an arm out to grab the half-elf, but it was too late. Levianath bolted, sliding past the group just barely and taking off down the street at a dead sprint. The alcohol had mostly left his mind now, enough so that he was fully in control of his actions, and he used that control to run for his life. Appropriately, too, because he was certain that his brother, if he caught him, might just kill him this time.

A sharp, hot pain in his calf caused him to stumble and trip, and he fell forward onto his knees, palms skidding against the street. Immediately, as a last resort, he drew the shadow fire into his hands and turned, noting that the pain in his leg was due to a well-thrown knife, embedded into the muscle.

He gritted his teeth and shot the magic toward the group, which didn't do much as one of them managed to deflect it easily enough.

_Shit_.

He felt two pairs of hands grab his arms and lift him up, and he grunted at the pain in his leg when it shifted. It wasn't every day he felt like getting stabbed, and this was no different. Attacks came from both sides, and it wasn't long before he was pretty sure he had at least a bruised, possibly broken, rib, and what felt like a broken elbow and a dislocated finger or two from fighting back.

A now very angry Jonas wiped a sleeve over his face as he regarded his brother, and Levianath grimaced. This wasn't going to end well for him at all.

"You attacking my family? You stealing our stuff? That's enough for me to kill you," Jonas hissed.

"Do it, then," Levianath retorted. "Carry on your father's tradition of murdering your family. You're the oldest, so I'm sure you remember it best. What was it like watching your father slaughter your mother in cold blood?"

Jonas bristled, throwing a punch into Levianath's cheek, causing blood to spout from where his teeth hit the inside of his cheek. Levianath spat the blood at the ground, the side of his face spasming in pain.

Jonas drew closer. "He did it because of you. Because of what you are. You're a freak."

"Really?" Levianath barked the word sharply. "You're justifying the murder of your mother? You really are your father's son."

Another punch came, this time connecting into Levianath's gut, and he groaned, slumping forward as his stomach threatened to heave.

Jonas's voice was close, and seething. "I hate you."

Levianath couldn't help but smirk. "If I had a copper for every time you said th-"

His words were canceled with a fist, and then another right against his eye and cheekbone, causing his head to fall backward. He began to feel fuzzy, his mind blurring as pain blossomed in throbbing shoots through his face and head. His brother really was going to kill him, wasn't he?

In a sudden rush of panic, he began to fight against his captors, a life-preserving attempt at escape, but they gripped him fast and held him there. He yanked at his arms, glaring at Jonas with burning green eyes. Jonas, glaring back, took a single step backward and nodded at the people holding the half-elf. They threw him down onto the stone street floor, his head smacking hard as he hit the ground, and stars filled his vision. He felt a sharp kick land against his stomach, and he curled up in nauseous, throbbing pain, scrunching his eyes shut. His broken rib was killing him, and with the pain of the kick, it almost caused him to black out right there. Every part of him hurt, and as if that wasn't bad enough, he felt two more ruthless kicks to his stomach, rendering him entirely useless.

He heard one last hateful sentence from his brother before receiving from him a sharp, hard kick to the head that knocked him out cold.

"I sincerely hope you don't wake up from this."

* * *

**Ugh. Human half-brothers... Who needs 'em?**

**Lots more Julian interaction in the next chapter, and we'll also be jumping right into the adventure.**

**Stay tuned.**


	3. Did It Hurt?

**Short chapter update, but it's still a chapter! :) My updates will probably start getting about this short for a while, if I want to keep them regular. So glad I got to write this today. Yay for long weekends!**

**I might try to get Chance updated next, if I can. I've got half a chapter written for that, and if I can get the inspiration, I'll have it published soon.**

**I've also got the Lucian Origins story almost finished... Just have to write up a connecting scene and then that'll get published too. Slow and steady, eh?**

* * *

**Responses: NyteKnight: Yes! Nori cameo! :)**

**Kintaraheart: Mwahahha.. You should train Levianath, then. He'd appreciate it. :3**

**Willowstar: Yeah! Those silly elves. Shouldn't get so worked up about it huh? **

**The Corrupted Typer: Oh yeah.. Those brothers of his. And we haven't even met his sisters. :S**

**CherryMountain: No kidding!**

**Chelinka: Hey! I agree! Levianath _does_ need someone JUST like that! ;)**

* * *

Julian munched on an unripened, sour green apple as he strolled into the bottom floor of the Druids' massive tree, searching for something to do. That peculiar half-elf, Levianath, had left hours ago, and nighttime had now fallen, but Julian was still wide awake and bored out of his mind. He could be working on his engineering, or possibly studying up on his magic, but he didn't feel like doing any actual work.

When he entered the base floor, off to the side he caught a sight that put a smile on his face. It was his infant brother Finnian and his twin nephews, Lucian and Celwin, all three being babysat by his older sister Nyela and her close friend, Lily. Little Finnian and Lucian were both lying on their tummies on a wide blanket, curiously looking about and making odd sounds with their mouths, while baby Celwin (Julian was only now learning how to tell the twins apart) was trying his hardest to move about, though he hadn't gotten the hang of crawling yet. The babies had recently mastered the ability to lift their heads on their own, and even support themselves slightly on their arms in the 'pushup' position if they really tried.

Julian, grinning, approached the little group, sliding smoothly into the seat next to Lily. Although Nyela had Julian beaten by three years, Lily was only a year older than he was, and he liked to press that fact as much as possible. They really weren't that far apart.

He leaned close to her, close enough that he could catch the subtle scent of lavender, and flipped the shaggy crimson locks of his hair to the side with a toss of his head.

"Helloooo," he drew the word out longer than necessary, dipping the tone low and then back up. "How are you?" He sent her a sideways smirk.

She smiled back. "I'm fine!"

Julian always loved how cheerful she was.

"I didn't ask how you _looked_," Julian responded without missing a beat, and watched her sideways, his smirk widening to a full grin as her lips fought a smile and lost. He could tell she was trying not to laugh, which made it all the better.

"That was lame," she smiled, still not looking at him, and he laughed aloud.

"I doubt you could come up with a better one."

She finally peered over at him, giving him a single raised brow, her almond eyes flashing with humor when their eyes met. "Okay," she began, "how about this one: Did it hurt?"

He snorted. "Oh come on, everyone knows that one."

"Did it hurt?" she repeated.

He decided to play along, still not shifting his eyes as he held her under his teasing gaze. "Did what hurt?"

"When you crawled out of hell? Because damn, you're smoking!"

Julian's laughter echoed in the room, and Lily looked more than pleased. Nyela, who was sitting on the other side, just laughed and stood.

"That's it," she announced, rolling her eyes, but laughing. "What is it with you two and terrible pick-up lines?"

"They're an art form, Sis," Julian retorted, smiling at her innocently.

"Whatever. Time to feed and put the boys to bed," she laughed, and shooed her brother. "Go away, Julian. You're distracting my helper."

"Aw," Julian leaned in close to Lily, sending her a smug grin, his chin almost crossing over her shoulder. "I'm not distracting you, am I?"

The girl began to giggle, and she pushed his shoulder with one hand. "Julian, scram."

"Alright fine," he shrugged, and pointed over his shoulder toward the exit door. "Well, I'm going outside to make out. Want to join me?"

Lily at first didn't register, but then she burst into a fit of quiet laughter, shaking her head at him wordlessly and covering her face with her hands.

"Can I at least borrow a kiss, then?" he asked playfully. "I promise I'll give it back later."

"Julian!" The blue-haired beauty scolded in a laugh. "No, you don't get a kiss!"

He sent her the most saddened, melancholy puppy eyes he could muster, slumping his shoulders for effect, but she just shook her head at him. He frowned for a second, and then his eyes lit up as he got an idea.

"What about on the cheek?" he pressed, tapping the side of his face and scooting a little closer to her on the bench. "Just a little one?"

"You promise you're not going to trick me and turn your face last-second?" Lily laughed. Julian could tell she was humoring him, but he didn't care. This was entertaining, she was a cute girl, and he was no longer bored.

"Pinky promise," he held up his hand, offering his little finger out, and she gave him a look.

"What are we, six?"

He just wagged the finger at her, and she sighed and finally held out her pinky, making to lock hers with his. The instant before she did though, he switched to his index finger, linking it around her pinky and tugging her toward him. He craned in, the action so fluid that before Lily could even hope for a chance to react, he'd already stolen a _real _kiss and then immediately hopped out of his seat, cheering loudly in triumphant laughter as he ran out of the tree. Lily's shout was laced in both outrage and hilarity as he fled.

"JULIAN!"

* * *

Julian was still smiling as he walked along the edge of the forest, near a pool that jutted out of the tree wall and into the slope between the forest and the Stormwind walls. Lily was a cute girl. Way too cute to ever actually be with someone like him, in his opinion, but he still loved how she fed into his joking advances. He hadn't expected his prank to go as well as it had, and to be honest felt pretty proud of himself.

He took a rock from beside his boots and skipped it across the smooth pool surface, chucking it hard enough that it made it nearly across the entire pool, skipping nearly ten times before coming to a premature stop and sinking.

He laughed to himself out loud, unable to wipe the smile from his face, when he thought about Lily's line. He'd heard the 'heaven' version, but never that one. He had to admit, he liked it better. Maybe just because it came from Lily.

The forest was quiet around him, and although he preferred company of other people, he was enjoying this small moment of solitude.

As he skipped another stone, something caught his attention to the left, a subtle greenish glow that began to light up everything around him. The trees, the ripples on the water, and his clothes, all shimmered with the green, and Julian felt an odd shiver run down his spine. If he didn't know better, he swore he felt a trickle of fear hit the back of his mind and latch on.

He turned slowly and stared at the source of the light, only to see something even more alarming. He'd only ever seen one accompanied by a Warlock, but this one was alone: an imp minion.

Julian stumbled backward, swallowing hard and attempting not to draw the demon's attention, but the demon was occupied with something else. Julian watched for a moment, attempting to understand what it was doing. It hopped about in a methodical pattern, seeming to draw odd symbols into the earth that glowed as he finished each one, until finally, it appeared it'd created some sort of glowing circle on the ground, with demonic markings that glowed brightly with the dark energy.

"Waste of blasted time," the creature uttered in broken common, growling, and with that, hopped into the circle, and with a flash, was gone.

The circle remained, and Julian stared at it in confusion, eyes wide and fear still coursing through him. It was almost as if the green aura itself gave off the fear, rather than it originating in his own mind, and so he stepped back farther, realizing that the more he distanced himself from it, the better he felt. Not more than a couple seconds later, he saw it begin to surge brighter, and he froze again.

Another flash came, and suddenly Julian saw two figures slumped there on the demonic circle. He knew one was the imp minion, as it had fel fire burning from it which made it recognizable. But the other figure he couldn't see clearly, but he saw that it was a person, lying down in a broken position.

Julian flinched sharply as the imp turned directly toward him, making eye contact.

"You," the imp ordered bluntly, his voice high-pitched, almost gravelly. "C'mere."

Julian swallowed, and pointed to himself. "Me?"

"No, that tree beside you," the imp grumbled. "Yes, you, dipshit. Help me out with this. He's heavy an' I can't carry him."

"Wh-what happened?" Julian asked as he stumbled forward. He couldn't believe he was sitting here speaking to a demon, of all creatures he could've encountered here. He neared the imp, peering past it, and then with a surge of shock recognized the person lying there on the circle. It was the half-elf he'd just met, but he looked completely different. Levianath had bruises on his face to the point of where one eye was beginning to swell shut, his arm was resting at an angle that made Julian cringe, and from his nose and mouth came trickles of blood that dripped down his face.

"What happened to him?" Julian repeated, immediately ignoring the surprise at the demon and focusing on Levianath, dropping down beside him and trying to decide the best route to go as far as healing.

"Dunno, I wasn't there," the creature retorted. "But I'm bound to his magic, and I ain't worth a single soul if he dies. So fix him."

"I can try..." Julian said, willing his hands to quit shaking. He hadn't gone through his Emerald Dream training yet and only knew basics of the Druidic practices, but he knew some healing, as much as Glenn had taught him. Levianath was unconscious, so Julian used that to his advantage, and the first thing he tended to was the man's arm and fingers, setting them back where they belonged, but he didn't heal them. He didn't want to do it wrong and leave the guy with a crippled limb.

He did manage to heal the cuts and bruises on Levianath's face, as well as some external injuries that were minor enough, and then he stood, resting his hands on his hips. Levianath still hadn't woken up, which meant he'd most likely taken some hard trauma to his head. Julian knew there was one man in this tribe who could assuredly help: his own father.

"I'm taking him to my father. He can heal the injuries better than I," Julian announced, kneeling back down and lifting the man up with a little difficulty. Levianath wasn't heavy, but he was tall, and hard to maneuver as far as being tender with the injuries he still had. Levianath's head lolled backward toward the ground over the edge of Julian's arm, his mouth parting open in his unconscious state and onyx hair drooping.

The imp nodded. "I can't go into that orchard there, so I'm leaving him in your hands. Literally. Don't get him dead."

"I won't," Julian replied quickly, and without further question, he took off back toward the tree.


	4. Duped

**Alright! This chapter is our 'launcher' chapter. That'll make more sense when you reach the end. Maybe.**

**Responses:**

**Cherry Mountain: We'll see a lot more of him! :)**

**Psalty: Julian does, too. ;D**

**LadyRaftina: Oh, man! Yes! That's definitely a Julian thing. We'll see something like that in the next chapter, as long as it ends up as planned. :)**

**Suneeku: I know I already PM'd you but Julian has bright red hair, is almost as tall as Lucian (so far) and golden puppy-like eyes. :P**

**NyteKnight: Daddy Silverpaw is on the fence. Sarion, on the other hand... xD And GoT and yarn-spinning sounds so nice right now... Lol.**

* * *

Julian's snow-haired father, Lucian, was quickly found in the base floor with a few other guys, including Julian's mentor Glenn, and his big sister's sable-haired boyfriend, Sarion Dawnstar. Those three men tended to spend a lot of their free time (as scarce as it was now with the family additions) together.

His dad didn't ask many questions; years of emergency situations had brought him to the point of where his first reaction was to take the unconscious, bleeding man from Julian's arms and place him on a nearby table, administering immediate aid. As Lucian spent powerful, beneficial surges of healing energy into Levianath's temples, the others crowded around. Sarion was the first to speak up.

"Who is he?" he asked, his voice guarded. "I could catch the fel energy reeking from him even before you brought him in."

Lucian butted in before Julian could respond to the dark-haired man. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know," Julian replied, and he meant to say more, but Lucian spoke again.

"Where did you find him?"

"Edge of the orchard. His demon placed him in my care."

He heard Sarion nearby audibly hiss. "Demon? You encountered a demon?"

"An imp minion. Nothing dangerous," Julian shook his head. "He had good intentions. Just wanted me to help his master."

"Good intentions?" Sarion barked incredulously. "From a demon? Are you joking?"

"Do you know this man?" Lucian demanded, interrupting Sarion's scolding.

"Yes, I met him yesterday," Julian replied. "He was fine this morning, too. I don't know what happened to him. He was planning on leaving the continent, as far as I understood."

"You mean he stayed _here, _overnight?" Sarion cut in again, obviously upset. "You let a Warlock into our home?"

"He's a good guy, Sarion," Julian reasoned. "Misunderstood, maybe a bit cynical, but he's not a bad person just because of the magic he practices."

"Right. You could make the same argument about a murderer. Fel energy offers nothing but danger and tragedy, and those who dabble with it are doomed from the second they allow it into their practices," Sarion retorted. "Of all people, I should know. You should not have brought him here, especially not after knowing him for only a day. Not around our children."

Julian sighed, but didn't argue further. He knew Sarion more than anyone had reason to be upset about it, and Lucian seemed to be agreeing, though his focus was kept on healing Levianath.

"Who is he?" Glenn asked, speaking for the first time.

"His name is Levianath. I don't remember his surname," Julian replied.

Finally, Lucian finished his attempts and took a step away from the table, inspecting the unconscious man.

"The state of his clothing is pitiful," Lucian murmured. "Julian, was this man homeless?"

"I think so. That's why I had him stay here a night." He frowned. "He did have a backpack and a coin satchel on him, but I'm guessing whoever did this to him took his stuff. I wouldn't be surprised if that's all he owned. He told me he has money in a bank, but he sure doesn't look it."

Sarion stepped in. He wasn't being rude, so much as just incredibly firm. "Letting him stay here was a poor choice of action. You need to get this Warlock and his magic out of here."

Lucian finally placed a gentle, wide palm against Sarion's chest as a warning, and leaned in and murmured something Julian didn't catch. Sarion hesitated, and then nodded in response, and with that, he headed upstairs. Glenn joined him, conversing as they both left. As much as Julian adored Sarion, the man could be pretty intense sometimes, and he was relieved that Lucian had sent him away. He hated arguing in general, and he _especially_ didn't want to argue with a man who was basically his brother-in-law.

Lucian turned his attention to his son. "Julian, Sarion's not wrong. This man is dangerous, regardless of his intentions."

"He needs help, dad," Julian argued pleadingly. "He had nowhere else to stay, and he obviously can't hold his own against whoever it was that did this to him. He needs protection, or at least a good push in the right direction."

Lucian's eyes softened, and he drew Julian in, looping a strong arm over his shoulder. Julian noticed with a streak of glee that he was nearing the height of his own father already, as it took more of an effort for Lucian to throw his arm over his shoulder. His father's voice was affectionate.

"You are definitely your mother's son."

"Speaking of, Mom knew I let him stay here," Julian announced quickly, suddenly getting the idea that maybe bringing his mother into the equation would sway Lucian's opinion.

"She did?"

"Yeah, she helped me get his room ready last night. I told her how I'd met him, and I expressed my opinion of him, and she was fine with it."

Lucian sighed. "Alright. Well, how about this: Keep him here overnight. Watch him closely, make sure there aren't any complications or injuries I didn't catch. Tomorrow, we can get him on his feet and send him on his way. Sarion's right; we don't need him or anything he's involved with brought into our home, especially not with our new family additions here."

Julian grimaced, but nodded. At least they weren't kicking him out right now. This was probably the best he could get.

He followed behind as Lucian lifted the unconscious Warlock up and carried him down into the basement floors, dropping him off in the first available room. Julian pulled up an armchair and settled in, sitting cross-legged and leaning his elbows onto his knees. It wasn't long before he grew bored, and he sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

He felt incredibly sore all over as he awoke, the aches that tugged in his muscles causing him to audibly groan as he sat up. It was pitch black, and for a half-second of fear he worried he'd lost his sight. But then his glow adjusted, and his eyes followed suit, and suddenly he could see everything clearly in the room he was in.

Levianath was lying in a bed more comfortable than any he'd slept in before, its sheets cool and silky and the bedding itself the perfect combination of soft and firm. As he glanced around and took in his surroundings, he was surprised at what he saw in an armchair beside his bed. The red-haired Druid he'd met earlier was sprawled out in a lopsided, slumped form across the armchair, which was far too small to comfortably sleep in.

Levianath furrowed his brows and silently slid out of his comfortable haven, feet hitting cool wooden floor soundlessly, and he padded out of the room without a sound, realizing where he was. He was back at the Silverpaw orchard. His arm and hand jazzed in a ghost-like pain that zig-zagged up his nerves to his shoulder when he moved it, and he winced, inspecting it. This was the pain of a recently-broken but recently-healed bone. Who had healed him? Julian? And how had he found him? Last he remembered, he was left for dead in a dark alley of the Dwarven District.

He ventured up into the first floor of the tree and noted that it was early morning, and that the people in the tree didn't even glance at him when he appeared. Or, at least, all but one.

A young woman with strikingly-bright blue hair glanced over at him and perked up, her almond-shaped eyes widening.

"You must be Levianath!" she exclaimed, and he blinked at her. She approached him, holding out her hand to shake.

"I'm Lily. Julian brought you in last night. I didn't see, but apparently you were in really bad shape."

He lifted his brows. So it _had_ been the kid. "How did he find me?"

"No idea," she shrugged. "But I'm glad he did."

He cocked his head, lips nearly tugging into a smirk. "Me, too."

* * *

Julian

* * *

Somewhere in the night, Julian had fallen asleep. And when he awoke, the bed in front of him was no longer holding a sleeping half-elf.

Blinking away the grogginess in his eyes, Julian sloppily jumped out of his seat and bounded upstairs, hoping desperately he hadn't lost his patient already, but as soon as he reached the main floor, he was relieved to see Levianath standing right across the room. The tall guy was leaning on a doorframe, arms crossed smoothly with a sly look on his face. It took Julian only a second to see who the guy was engaging in conversation.

Levianath was listening with one brow quirked to Lily, who was talking about something Julian couldn't hear. He saw Levianath nod slowly, appearing entertained (though not smiling) at Lily's words, and then saw Lily begin to laugh cheerfully and a subtle smirk find its way onto Levianath's lips.

Relieved, Julian smiled, too, and he approached them both.

"I see you've made yourself at home," Julian said cheerfully, and Levianath glanced over at him and sent him a partial nod. Julian noted how well his father's healing had worked. The man didn't even have bruises left on his cheek.

Levianath lifted a brow. "I suppose I have you to thank for bringing me here last night?"

Julian shrugged. "Actually it was your imp that brought you to me. I just sought out healing."

He saw fondness flicker across the man's face for a half-second. "That so?"

Julian laughed. "If I remember right, his last words to me were 'Don't get him dead.'"

To his surprise, Levianath's head fell back with a loud, legitimate laugh, which was surprisingly infectious, and it made both Julian and Lily beside him begin to grin. This was the first real laugh Julian had heard from the guy, and it was a hell of a lot better than the sulky exterior.

The half-elf nodded cheerfully, brushing one hand over his mouth and black-tufted chin. "Yes," the guy smirked. "Yes, that does sound like him. I'll have to thank him sometime."

Julian smiled, glancing over at Lily. She stuck her tongue out at him, clearly unforgiving from last night, but he just wiggled his brows and puckered his lips at her suggestively. She punched his arm.

Snickering playfully, Julian looked back at Levianath.

"Well, good news is we managed to heal you up from last night. Bad news," Julian paused, grimacing, "is you can't stay here."

He saw Lily gain an appalled expression. "Why not?!" He was a little shocked at her outrage; he thought she barely knew this guy.

Levianath just shrugged before Julian could explain, standing straight from where he'd been leaning against the door frame. "Don't worry, I get that more than you might think. I can be out by noon."

"You don't have to leave immediately," Julian said quickly. He didn't want history to repeat itself with the poor guy. "You want something to eat? We can get some food."

Levianath hesitated there, glowing emerald eyes glancing toward Lily. "Only if she'll dine with us," he smiled charmingly, a look which, as much as Julian wouldn't admit it, worked quite well. The guy totally knew what he was doing.

Julian bit back his own smile and turned his golden gaze down to Lily's, his brows arching sharply with a reading, teasing stare. "Then it's up to you," he told her, hoping she could read him. He was teasing her so hard right now.

Lily ignored his look and perked up. "Of course!" After sending a sly glance at Julian, she offered her hand out, palm-down, in a hilariously-dainty manner that made Julian begin to snicker as Levianath graciously took it and tucked it into his forearm.

"Hey!" Julian complained, biting back laughter with a mixture of blatant jealousy and, to be entirely honest, admiration of Levianath's smooth demeanor. "You two get any more obvious, and I'll feel like the third wheel."

Lily just laughed, but Julian got the creeping suspicion that his joke just might come true. In fact, as much as he hated to admit it, he found himself relieved that the guy would be gone by nightfall.

* * *

Levianath

* * *

After he had been fed and given a small purse of money (courtesy of the tribe's chieftain, Lucian Silverpaw), Levianath was practically ushered out of the forest by Sarion, who was polite but firm in that he was not welcome here. Levianath had encountered this sort of thing enough now that it didn't faze him. People kicked him out all the time, and it didn't upset him in the slightest. At least, that's what he told himself.

First things first, he set off to check ship schedules. Julian and Lily chose to tag along with him, which he didn't mind all that much. Ideally, he would be alone, but he was surprised to find that their company wasn't as annoying as most. Maybe it was their almost ignorant cheerfulness, he wasn't sure. But in a weird way it was pleasant. It allowed him to escape who he was and delve into their personalities, giving him a glimpse of what it would be like to live in their place. Which was, he deduced, a much, much simpler life. They barely even had to work, save for simple farm chores, and those were all done through Druidic magic.

It was a simple, seemingly Utopian lifestyle they led, and it intrigued the man who'd had to fight tooth-and-nail for every little thing he had in his life.

He wasn't surprised when the Darnassian dockmaster said there wouldn't be another ship until Monday, and this was a Thursday. Levianath turned to leave, shoving his hands in his rough-stitched black trouser pockets, and the two elves joined his side, trying to find something to do. Levianath had to find a place to sleep, and he got the feeling that the two people with him wouldn't leave him alone until he'd bought himself a room at an inn somewhere. Which, in retrospect, would be a good idea for him. He didn't feel like running into one of his brothers.

Somehow, they ended up stopping in front of a sketchy-looking tavern, and Lily insisted they eat there, but the guys were more than hesitant. They exchanged skeptical glances, and looked at Lily like she was crazy, but she stood her ground.

"Seriously! Nyela and I have eaten here countless times," she declared, and Levianath bit back a smirk. He wouldn't be surprised right now if she stomped a foot down.

Levianath glanced over at Julian, and Julian just shrugged.

"They like it, how bad could it be?" he said reluctantly, and Levianath cocked his head sideways, before nodding.

"Well, alright," he finally agreed, and the trio headed into the bar. In all Levianath's life in Stormwind, he'd never heard of this place. It was sandwiched, or more like hidden, between a dark alley and an even darker alley. He wondered how Lily and her friend would've ever found a place like this, let alone gone inside.

But they all did, and it turned out better than Levianath had expected. In fact, it reminded him of the taverns in southern Stranglethorn Vale, at the cape town there called Booty Bay. The atmosphere was eerily similar, and he felt more at home here than he had anywhere else in the city, though he didn't rightly know why.

Almost immediately as they all sat down at the bar, Levianath saw Julian shimmy up close to Lily with a smug look on his face and say something Levianath couldn't catch. Lily began to giggle relentlessly and turned her face away from Julian, putting her chin in one hand and resting her elbow on the bar so that Julian could only see the back of her head. Lily made eye contact with Levianath and just beamed, and his heart skipped a beat. He'd known this girl for less than a day, but he knew two things: she was gorgeous, and she seemed entirely at ease with strangers like himself, which was odd. He usually was met with wary glances and furtive scowls.

He was on his guard as usual, but she seemed carefree and way too trusting. Same went for the other guy, Julian. Levianath guessed Julian was around his age, but he couldn't be sure. Julian was as tall as he was and looked like he could be in his twenties, but the way he acted gave Levianath a different idea. He was far too...happy. Grown-ups aren't _that_ happy all the time, are they?

Levianath responded to Lily's look with a simple smirk, and then turned to the bartender, a tough-looking woman with freckled, tanned, callused arms and long, black wiry hair with streaks of white. She sent Levianath a heads-up glance, and he responded with one of his own and ordered a mug for himself. Within ten seconds, it was sitting in front of him at the bar. He'd have to remember to tip her well before the night was over. He usually didn't tip, but he'd been feeling wealthy lately.

Julian and Lily ordered theirs as well, and Levianath watched them warily. He'd never known Night Elves to drink much at all, especially not ale, but these two acted like it was nothing. In normal elf culture, drinking that in public would be considered sloppy. One more reason this tribe was strange. Strangely enough, Levianath found that the more he learned about it, the more he was beginning to appreciate the tribe's rebellious nature, though he'd never admit it out loud.

He saw Julian take a generous drink, wipe his mouth with his sleeve, and then lean against the bar to speak to Lily, who still wasn't looking at him.

"If you were a fruit, you'd be a fine-apple," the redhead said playfully, and Lily snorted. Levianath furrowed his brows in amused confusion, and listened as Julian went in for another line.

"You're so hot you make Burning Steppes look like Northrend," he snickered at her, and she finally looked over at him again.

"Julian, your lines are atrocious," she laughed back.

Julian kept grinning. "I wish I were cross-eyed, so I could see you twice."

"You're gonna get slapped," she replied, still laughing.

He held his hands out in a shrug. "Suit yourself. I've got plenty more where those came from."

"Use them elsewhere," she replied teasingly.

Levianath just shook his head and rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his drink. These two were annoying, but they were still decent company, seeing as unlike most people he encountered, they weren't out to get him. Plus, since he _had_ company, he wasn't being approached by people trying to pick a fight. It's crazy how having even one person with you can sway those looking for easy prey.

As Lily and Julian continued to banter (or was it flirting?), Levianath noticed a crowd enter the tavern which only completed the place's 'Booty Bay' semblance. Four fairly youthful but rough-looking, green-skinned Goblins, two women and two men, marched in and made a beeline for the bar, hopping up easily into the stools and all talking loudly amongst each other, their voices gritty and amusing. The one closest to Levianath and the other two glanced over, giving them all a keen level of scrutiny. Levianath kept his distance from him and didn't care to engage in conversation, but then the guy jerked his head to the side and started to speak to Lily.

"Yo, Toots," the Goblin called out, and Lily pointed her gaze at him cheerfully, waiting for him to continue. "What'cha drinkin, kid?" he asked her in a friendly manner.

She lifted up her tankard. "Well," she studied it a second. "Something made from wheat."

The Goblin laughed aloud. "Like your style," he praised, and then looked at Levianath. "Ever tried Goblin ale?"

Levianath shook his head, expression remaining flat.

The guy shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Shame. Ya haven't lived 'til ya tried it."

Julian perked up from Levianath's other side. "I'll try it."

"Yeah?" the Goblin looked surprised.

Julian nodded. "Sure! But first, let me buy you all drinks."

The Goblin grinned, sharp teeth glinting, reminding Levianath of a shark. "Certainly," he nodded. "Won't pass up an offer like that."

Julian did as he'd promised, and soon enough, within the hour all four Goblins had warmed up to the young man and were crowded around him, throwing out jokes and laughing hysterically at his responses. Levianath observed from the side, biting back the occasional smirk when the conversation reached an uproarious level of humor. Though, most of the time, he remained somewhat stoic. Everyday conversation bored him, and as the voices in the tavern became louder every minute, he became more irritated and wanted to leave.

Finally, the Goblin who'd first spoken to them clapped a hand on Julian's shoulder, calming down from his laughter.

"Kid, we're from an excavation crew based a few hundred leagues south of here. I'll get straight to the point: we came here because we're hirin'. We'd hire just about anyone who can lift a pickaxe, but with you, hell, I'd pay ya to just show up and talk." The laughing man glanced over at Lily, who'd been just as engaged in conversation as Julian. "And as for you, you could bring us in a hell of a lot of money just making hydration rounds to the workers. Ain't no one who can turn down a drink from a pretty girl like you."

Lily smiled. "Sounds fun, but I've never worked a job like that in my life."

"Toots, that's like sayin' ya never tried chocolate so ya never will." The Goblin shook his head.

Lily lifted a brow, leaning an elbow against the bar. "What if I told you I don't like chocolate?"

Levianath glanced over at her. "Who doesn't like chocolate?"

She just returned his look with a sly wink.

"Can't say I'm looking to become a miner," Julian butted in, addressing the Goblins. "But you never know until you try. Anyway, about that drink you offered earlier..."

"Well, they don't sell our brew here," the small green man shrugged in response. "Lucky for you all, we brought some of our own. Won't cost you much." He butted his elbow against another of his kind, leaning back. "'Ey, grab us some of that ale we brought, will ya?"

"Got a customer already?" the other Goblin lifted his brow.

The guy nodded back, winking slyly, and Levianath squinted his eyes. Goblins. Always trying to make coin in overpricing their goods. But then again, what did he care? What was an extra coin to him now? He had over fifty thousand.

The three elves received full servings of the Goblin brew, and they went to town. Levianath had to admit, it did pack a _serious_ kick. He was pretty sure one mug of this equated to ten times the potency whatever he could've gotten his hands on here.

It took Levianath a while to warm up to the Goblins, even though he had to admit they were one of his favorite factions, with their sarcastic humor and give-a-damn attitudes. But halfway through his mug and he'd lost his inhibitions, and he had actually begun to partake in their jokes.

By the time Levianath downed the last drop of his mug, his memories of the night faded to black.

* * *

Julian

* * *

When he woke, Julian's eyes remained closed for a moment as he attempted to pull himself out of his groggy state. He was uncomfortably warm, and the air he was breathing was muggy and hot. Odd, for an April day. It normally didn't get this warm until mid-August, maybe later.

He furrowed his brows, still trying to wake up properly. His whole body felt like lead, and the second he even thought about moving, his head began to pound. His stomach churned, and with grudging realization, Julian accepted this hangover. He couldn't even remember how last night ended. He'd never done this before. Maybe this was a lesson to be learned.

A fly buzzed near his ear and then landed on his cheek, its wings whining that high-pitched tune. He attempted to wave it away, but all it did was crawl to the other side of his cheek. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead, and frowned.

It was far too hot for April. Something was off.

Finally he opened his eyes, and startled at the view. He saw sunlight peeking through a dusty canvas tent roof and blinked, realizing he was definitely _not_ at home. He heard muffled, distant voices and the sounds of working machinery from far away, as well as the occasional squawk of what sounded like exotic birds far overhead.

He sat up, wincing as his head swam, and glanced about frantically, and then relaxed when he saw Levianath's prone form nearby. He wondered where Lily was, but most of all, he wondered where he himself was, as well as what the hell was going on. He leaned forward toward the flap of the tent, but paused when his head shot with pain again. This definitely wasn't just the effects of alcohol, he concluded. He felt drained and confused, not just hungover. He'd had all of three drinks last night. The two rounds he'd bought for the Goblins, and then the one Goblin brew.

What had been in that drink?

Gritting his teeth, he finally pulled the tent door to the side. A burst of muggy air, even hotter than in the tent, hit him square, and bright sunlight refracted off of crystalline shards that grew out of the ground and bright, dense green jungle plants. His eyes widened despite the pain of the light that jarred them. Where _was_ he?

Levianath stirred and sat up beside him, and Julian looked over at him, eyes still bugging out. Levianath looked almost bored, exhausted, and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms as Julian sat there speechless.

Julian finally found his voice. "Where the hell are we?"

Levianath yawned slowly, appearing unimpressed, and squinted his eyes, peering out of the tent door. He must have recognized it, because he then sighed.

"Well I'll be damned," Levianath grunted, his voice still sleepy. "We're in Stranglethorn Vale."


	5. Out of the Frying Pan

**Long time no update, eh? :) **

**Sorry I've been solely focusing on this story, but with school, it's so much easier to simply stick to one timeline. I hope you all don't mind. :)**

**Responses:**

* * *

**Mythique: He's the kind of cheesiness, if nothing else. ;D**

**Kintaraheart: Bwahhaa, maybe you've got a Truman Show thing going on and you just haven't realized it yet. :O**

**Zarabethe: Oh yeah, Lev and Julian will need to team up in the upcoming chapter.. I couldn't bear to make him the bad guy. ;D**

**NyteKnight: Ahaha! No kidding! Sarion's would certainly be far less cheesy, that's for sure. :D**

**LadyRaftina: Lily does have her part to play, still, but she may be a bit AWOL for a while. And awww, yes, I didn't even think of that! They totally do line up! :D I have some entertaining plans for that imp.**

**psalty: Yes it would! From Stormwind to Stranglethorn overnight! xD **

**ChelinkaTheArchmage: Can't trust those Goblins! But don't worry, we may meet a good one soon. :) And you're at 2/3 with those predictions, as long as we stay vague. :P**

**Noriana26: HEY! Haven't talked to you in ages. Hahhaha that triangle is trying to form... x) I'll keep writing! :D**

* * *

Julian lobbed a heavy burlap sack full of stone into a wooden cart, its boards creaking at the added weight. The muscles in his back and arms protested his every move, but at this point, he didn't even care. His job was to load, transport, and unload carts between mining sites and the camps. Levianath was working a different cart; the two had barely seen one another this entire week.

Why was he working? Funny story, really. If, by 'funny,' one means 'entirely unfair and morally wrong.'

Those Goblins they'd met back at that bar in Stormwind? Yeah, they really were recruiting workers, but not in a way that could be deemed all that legal in most places. As far as Julian and Levianath were informed, they got completely smashed, and in their inebriation, signed binding contracts into their jobs, contracts which basically boiled down to the two of them signing themselves over to slave labor. The Goblins had even provided proof of those contracts; it'd definitely been their signatures. Seemed they'd signed up and hitched a ride all the way to the jungle while too trashed to remember any of it.

But the two guys knew better. They'd been tricked. Something had been in those drinks, or possibly they'd been under the influence of mind control. Three drinks was not the limit of either men, and for goodness' sake, these were Goblins they were dealing with. Of course they'd do something like this. Levianath had accused them of trickery outright, and had actually gotten into a pretty intense shouting match before being dragged off and "subdued" by overseers. Julian had later learned from other workers that Levianath had been beaten until he shut up, but Levianath wouldn't admit it. The bruises showed, resembling almost those of when Levianath had been attacked (Julian still hadn't learned who had done that to him). But no one commented on them.

Julian also didn't know where Lily was. He could only hope she hadn't gotten caught up in this mess. She wouldn't last a day down in this jungle. In all honesty Julian was surprised that he actually had. He rarely ever saw Levianath during the day other than during their short lunch break, and even then, the two barely talked, because they only had a certain amount of time to eat and would miss out on their meal if they wasted it by talking.

After the first few days, in which they tried desperately to find loopholes or escapes, they realized with grudging acceptance that there really was no way out. They'd contracted themselves in; the only way they could get out of it was if their contractors released them, or if something happened to said contractors or possibly the work site itself. And neither of those were happening soon.

There were overseers swarming the place, so there was literally no way to escape by fleeing, unless they had portals. Neither of them did. Levianath _would_ if he'd had his imp summoned, who could use demonic gateways between short distances. But there was never a time to summon the demon. Any time the overseers saw someone working magic, they'd stop them in whatever way was necessary.

In short, Julian had come to the conclusion that he'd been duped into servitude. He was, without a better way to put it, enslaved. Working against his will, with no way to contact his family to let them know where he was. He supposed by now they were _really_ worried, and they probably also thought Levianath was behind it all, which made him feel bad. The poor guy had taken this whole servitude thing even worse than Julian had and put up a much larger fight, which in turn constituted much larger workloads, not to mention cruel punishment for fighting it.

Sighing, Julian threw another heavy bag into the cart. He still wasn't even entirely sure what it was that they were 'excavating'. If he had to guess, it was some sort of valuable marine mineral, but he couldn't be sure. There was a deposit in the caves, and his job was to haul it all. The camp and the sites were set up right on the edge of the crystal blue southern sea, and the workers slaved away in the cliffside caves by the surf. The entire place was jagged and rocky and unforgivably hot under the beating sunlight. The rays reflected off of the surface of the water into Julian's eyes, and at this point, his light sensitivity was giving him a run for his money. He worried that the damage to his eyes was even worse than his sunburn, his exhaustion, or the fact that his overworked muscles felt like they would give out at any second.

Another bag went into the cart, and finally it was full enough to take back. The campsites were built into the jungle, under the shade, and as much as he hated the places themselves, they were still a big improvement. He took the cart along the hard-packed pathway leading back into the trees, his mind delving deeper into internal thoughts as he himself delved into the thick, muggy forest.

His highest priority right now was to get a message to his father to inform him of what was going on. Although all the workers were kept under constant armed watch both night and day, the first chance Julian got, he aimed to get a message out to his father. He'd overheard some of the other workers (many he guessed had been working this job for ages) talk about some sort of weekend-like break at the end of every month. They called it recess, which struck him funny for some reason, but it gave him hope.

As the cart made its way along the path, up ahead Julian saw Levianath approaching from the opposite direction with an empty cart and another worker with him. Julian's face lifted. He hadn't seen Levianath for two days, and a familiar face was enough to brighten the young man's spirits. He picked up his pace and then stopped by the half-elf, glancing sideways at a human overseer about twenty yards up the road. The overseer watched him closely. Too much talk between the workers was promptly stopped; Julian had to be short about this.

Levianath, whose hair was tugged back into a low tail and his face smudged with dirt, looked exhausted, but still had a defiant spark in his eye that hadn't left yet. A scab rested on his lower lip and a bruise mottled the skin around it. The guy had been fighting again, probably against the overseers. Julian worried about how many times they'd allow Levianath to create conflict before taking larger measures. Would he just be fired? No, they wouldn't be that stupid; Levianath was a witness and could bring in someone to uproot the whole operation, seeing as this was all very illegal according to most factions. They'd have no choice but to dispose of him permanently.

Pushing that troubling thought from his mind, Julian stepped a little closer.

"Hey. I've been thinking... If we can get a message to my dad, we might be able to get out."

Levianath dropped his stance, eyes shifting toward the guard. "Keep your voice down," he murmured, and shook his head. "You know they don't let us send mail."

"At the end of the month, we just might be able to," Julian whispered, glancing at the guard again, who met Julian's gaze and then became suspicious. As the guard started to walk over, Julian spoke hurriedly. "I keep hearing about this thing called recess. We get a few days off. I'll find a way to get a message out."

Levianath glanced sideways and then immediately straightened up, speaking in a louder tone. "No, I don't know of any women here. Now get back to work and quit wasting my time, boy."

Julian's brows lifted. At first he was confused, and then realized that Levianath was burying their conversation with a ridiculous diversion. He cleared his throat as Levianath sent him a look.

"Alright, well, thanks anyway," Julian turned back to his cart just as the suspicious overseer arrived. The guy studied Julian and Levianath for a moment, and then quirked a brow at Julian after Levianath had gone on his way.

"You seriously just asked that worker where to find women?" the armed man spoke in a mocking tone.

Julian feigned a smirk and shrugged. "Never hurts to ask."

"Get back to work," the man ordered and shoved him roughly by the shoulder against the cart, and Julian grimaced as his back hit the wood at a sharp angle, but he did as the guy told, grudgingly returning to his job. Technically, Julian was pretty sure he could beat the overseer at hand-to-hand combat. Even with a weapon, the man was smaller than Julian in both height and muscle. Problem was, though, that he wasn't the only overseer there. Julian couldn't risk it.

He gritted his teeth in restraint, feeling his heart beginning to fall as the true reality began to finally, legitimately sink in for the first time that week. This whole thing had felt like a distant dream, as if he could wake up from it someday and it would all be whisked away.

But this was not his imagination; it was real, and he was stuck.

* * *

Later that night, Julian finished his last round of hauling that stupid cart back and forth, and he let out an exhausted breath as he headed toward the showers. Cleaning all the grime and sweat off was becoming one of the best parts of the day, and the only time he had to relax. The sun had already set and he had to be up before it rose again to repeat the workday, but he still wanted to shower before sleeping. It was the only thing he had to enjoy anymore.

The water itself was fresh and clean; after a week, Julian still found the showers strange. He'd never used a shower before. The odd structures were made possible by utilizing a pressurized water system, and although there was no temperature control, the water was lukewarm and felt comfortably cool against his sore shoulders.

When he stepped out and dressed in clean clothing (they wore plain uniforms, just one more thing that pointed toward slavery), he heard something that caught his attention. Laughter. Not something you hear all the time in this place.

His curiosity had been piqued. He followed the sound, passing the overseers with as much confidence as possible to sway them from thinking he was somewhere he shouldn't be. He'd never gone to this side of the camp; so far he'd just stayed within the confines of the workers' quarters. The pathways were lit with flickering torches, and the sounds of insects and amphibians singing in the surrounding jungle nearly drowned out the sounds of laughter.

The tent in question was large, one of the largest ones they had, and its material consisted of a rough, treated canvas that no doubt kept it cooler. He swallowed, glancing around, surprised he'd managed to slip out of his boundaries. The nearby guards had not yet seen him, a fact that gave him hope; if they didn't notice him slipping out now, they might not notice him just leaving altogether. Of course, he wouldn't leave without Levianath, but maybe he _did_ have a chance at escape after all. If by the time recess was over he hadn't been able to send out a message, this would be his backup plan.

He listened in close to the tent, hiding down in the shadows beside one cloth wall. A light from within cast shadows onto the material, and he could make out forms of humans and goblins, and the occasional troll, all of which were most likely overseers. Jeering, loud voices came from within, and the shadows moved about erratically.

A voice came from right behind him that made him almost topple over in fright.

"What are you doing?" he heard a harsh whisper close to his ear, and he jumped and whipped around, only to get a hand clamped over his mouth. His reaction would have been far more volatile, if not for his eyes being met with Levianath's stern gaze.

Julian let out a breath and tugged Levianath's hand from his face, his heart thudding hard against his chest.

Julian swore, biting back a relieved laugh. "You scared me."

"What are you doing?" Levianath repeated, glancing around. "If we get caught, they won't be kind. I of all people know this."

This was the closest Levianath had come to admitting the abuse he'd received from the overseers. Julian cleared his throat. "I was just curious," he whispered back.

"Curiosity sated?" Levianath's tone was peeved.

"No," Julian shook his head, and then hesitated, changing topics. "Wait, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Following you," the half-elf retorted. "I saw you slip off the path and came after you. Gods know how we avoided getting caught."_  
_

Suddenly, Julian had a realization, and his eyes brightened. He reached out and grabbed Levianath's shoulder. "Hey," he said abruptly.

"What?"

"If you're here, and we haven't been caught, this means we might be able to escape."

"Right now?"

"Right now," Julian nodded. He glanced around, taking note of the guards' locations. He saw four posted, all of which were off standing near the torches. This was far fewer guards than were posted in the workers' square. As long as Julian and Levianath stayed out of sight, they just might make it.

Levianath frowned. "Do you even know which way is north? We're in the middle of a jungle."

"Doesn't matter; as long as we find a road, we can follow it to a town. Or, even better, once we get far enough away, you can summon your imp. He's proven helpful in the past, right?"

The dark elf squinted his eyes. "Yes, but... I don't know," he trailed off hesitantly. "If we get caught..."

"We've wasted enough time already talking," Julian interrupted hurriedly, standing up carefully and staying in the shadows. "Are you in or are you out?"

Levianath's jaw pulsed, eyes darting over the guards in the area. "I'm in," he said finally. "Got a plan?"

Julian's brows furrowed as he studied their surroundings. On the one hand, he knew that on the far side of the camp, there was a road that probably led away from the whole place. On the other hand, reaching that road could end up with them being discovered. Their best bet would probably be to make a run for it into the jungle behind them and hope they didn't encounter any dangerous creatures in their escape.

Julian voiced that thought, and Levianath, after a few moments of thought, nodded as well.

"Sounds good. But we don't run. We stay methodical. Quiet. No attention drawn to us if we move slow and low to the ground. Once we're far enough away, I'll do the summoning ritual, and Pip'tai can port us out."

Julian nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a quiet whoosh, shaking out his hands nervously and cracking his neck to the side once in anticipation. His heart was now running a mile a minute. He began to lead Levianath out into the jungle, the two of them staying entirely silent as they crept through the ferns and between tall trees.

He halted when he heard voices up ahead and saw a soft glow of a torch. Levianath slunk up beside him, crouching, and peered off in the same direction of the sound. Not five seconds later, a decent-sized patrolling party became visible through the brush, not even five yards away.

"Think they're friendly?" Julian wondered quietly, heart thudding in fear of being caught.

Levianath's voice was barely a whisper. "Look at what they're wearing. That's overseer garb. They're part of the camp."

Julian swore under his breath.

Levianath spoke again. "Just wait for them to pass by. Don't move a m-"

A scuffle caused Julian to startle, and then he saw Levianath get yanked backward soundlessly. He stood immediately, stumbling backward, unexpectedly colliding with what felt like another person behind him.

"What do we have here?" It was a human, by the sound of it. Julian whirled around, but not fast enough, and didn't see a thing.

"Levianath!" Julian called out shakily, stumbling a step back again.

"The two of ya have been trouble since we brought ya in," a Goblin's gritty voice chided, and Julian's eyes widened as a familiar Goblin stepped into view in front of him. "I expected somethin' like this from your troublesome friend, but not from you, kid."

"Where'd you take him?" Julian asked shakily, taking another step back. He didn't have time to let the regret of being caught sink in; the anxiety was too great.

"The dark one? Taken back to camp. As we will with you." The Goblin advanced, and Julian tensed up, ready to fight back. However, he felt a sudden blunt pain hit him hard over the head and was out like a rock.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

After being gagged and dragged back to camp, Levianath was taken into the large tent where he and Julian had initially hidden behind earlier. His wrists were bound behind his back, his ankles were hobbled, and upon being dragged into the tent, he was tossed to the dusty ground. The overseers, who appeared to be having some sort of arm wrestling contest, barely paid attention to him, although about half the people in the tent did part a circle around him and watched him attentively.

The human who'd dragged him back spat on the ground beside him, and Levianath grimaced.

The guy's voice was annoying as it was rough. "Gettin' real bloody tired of this one," the human hissed. "Caught him and his other elf friend halfway to the 'Bay. This is the last straw."

Levianath saw him snap a finger at another overseer beside him. "Fetch the boss, will ya? I want this elf out of here in any way I can get."

The overseer in response nodded and left the tent. Just then, Levianath saw another group bring Julian in and chuck him on the floor beside Levianath. His anger surged when he saw that the boy was unconscious. The kid didn't deserve any of this.

To the side, another round of arm wrestling commenced, and most people began to focus on the sport rather than the captured escapees, making bets and letting their excitement rise to a din of shouting and jeering. Apparently they'd come to a logical conclusion that two incapacitated elves weren't that big of a threat.

Levianath's teeth ground down against his gag, and as the overseers who brought the two in began to talk amongst one another about what to do, he tried to nudge Julian's shoulder with his boot to wake him. The kid didn't budge. He shoved a little harder, and Julian startled awake, eyes flashing open. Julian wasn't gagged, and he inhaled sharply.

"What happened?" he prompted quickly, then noticed Levianath was gagged. He scooted forward, then appeared to realize his wrists were bound as well.

Julian's eyes darted around. "What do we do?"

He sounded more innocent with that question than ever before, and Levianath's brows tightened as an unexpected emotion hit him, one he might even consider to be sympathy. Had he developed a soft spot for the kid? Possibly, given that Julian was the first person to show him genuine kindness since he could remember.

One of the overseers noticed Julian was talking, and she kicked him in the side with her boot. "Shut up, you," she growled, her voice gritty.

Levianath's nostrils flared, and his arms flexed against the bindings, despite the rope burning his wrists as he dug against it. He growled through the cloth in his mouth, eyes shooting daggers at the woman.

However, surprisingly, Julian did not accept the abuse quietly. He began to laugh, which made Levianath pause and stare at him in confusion. This boy really was insane, he began to realize.

"You people have no idea who you're messing with," he snickered, half to himself. Levianath's brows furrowed, and one of the Goblins caught Julian's words as well.

"Oh, yeah?" the Goblin piped up, speaking as if he were just humoring the kid. "And who _are_ we messing with?"

Julian craned his neck up to the green-skinned man. "Ever heard of my father?"

"Should I have?"

Julian shrugged, smirking with one side of his mouth and glancing off to the side. "Perhaps if you had, you'd have left the two of us back in Stormwind."

Only then did Levianath recognize the Goblin speaking as the same one they'd met that night in the tavern in Stormwind. His anger began to bury him again just by seeing the guy's face.

"Why's that?" the Goblin wondered, interest piqued.

"My father is Lucian Silverpaw," Julian retorted. The Goblin returned with a blank look, and Julian sighed. "You know, Lucian 'war-legend, cross-faction-emissary, super-scary-when-he-wants-to-be, rebel-Druid-tribe-leader' Silverpaw?"

Levianath saw the guy's eyes widen, and another Goblin lady stepped in, chiding the man.

"Are you kiddin' me, Kwoxel?" she smacked the back of his head, and he ducked, grimacing. Her voice was squeaky. "You brought a gods-damned _Silverpaw_ into our camp? Man, you're more dimwitted than I thought."

"Ah, he just spoofin'," Kwoxel retorted. "He ain't a Silverpaw, he's just tryin' to scare us, Blizette."

"Look at him!" Blizette squeaked. "If that don't look like the mix between a Night Elf and a Blood Elf, I dunno what is. He even signed a contract! You didn't think to check his name _then_?"

"I ain't a proofreader, kid! I just bag 'em and tag 'em. I don't give two bolts about what his name is."

"Well, it might'ah been a good idea to know _before_ you nabbed a Silverpaw. You know the boss keeps the nobles off-limits. Yer supposed to only take those who ain't gonna be missed when they're gone."

"Fine, then we'll just kill 'em and be rid of it all. Boss don't even gotta know," Kwoxel folded his arms. The surrounding overseers listening seemed to like this idea by nodding.

Levianath's fingernails dug into his palms at that, but then he heard a high-pitched female voice from the opening of the tent.

"Boss don't gotta know about what?"

The whole tent fell into silence, and Levianath craned his neck to catch a glimpse. He saw a green-skinned Goblin walking in, and the workers parted around her as she did so.

"Now, can someone tell me why the hell you brought me in here at-" she glanced at her wrist, "-half past midnight?"

A few more seconds of dead silence passed, and then Blizette finally spoke up. "We got two workers that bolted, and we brought 'em in. They've been trouble since they got here, and we wanna snuff 'em. Problem is, we found out that this one," she pointed at Julian by nodding her head toward him, "is the kid of that Silverpaw chump in Stormwind."

"Silverpaw? As in the Druid?"

"One and only."

The woman, who Levianath could only guess was the boss of the whole operation, turned her gaze to Julian. "This true?"

"He won't stop 'til he finds us," Julian said simply, seeming unaffected by the Goblin's presence, although Levianath had to admit she was an intimidating person. Julian continued, "And if you kill either of us, you can be sure he'll destroy you."

The boss didn't look fazed. She leaned down and pinched one of Julian's cheeks. Her voice was overly cheerful. "The tropical sun has been kind to your pretty face, hasn't it? Look at these freckles."

Julian grimaced, pulling his face from her hand in disgust. She just laughed, the sound unnervingly musical, and looked up at a human beside her who was presumably a bodyguard.

"We're sending a ship off to Tanaris in the morning. Just throw him in the cargo hold with his friend and hand 'im off to the slavers once you get there. Easy. They'll sell, too. They're both skinny, but any substance they do have is all muscle. They'll bring us some good coin with the right buyers."

Levianath's face began to heat up at the thought of being sold like livestock, and Julian looked frantic. The boss leaned back down to eye level with Julian.

"Now why would your daddy come here lookin' if there's no trace of you in the first place? We already sent that girlie friend of yours to another camp, so once you're outta my hair, your trail ends before it even begins."

For the first time, Levianath saw what looked to be true anger flit across Julian's face, and to be honest, it was unnerving to say the least. Julian's eyes flashed angrily, and he spat at the boss's feet, baring his sharp teeth and looking for a split-second almost frighteningly like his father, gaining a feral touch.

The woman's lip curled in disgust, and without warning her hand swung out, catching the side of Julian's face in a hard slap. He growled audibly, seething, and Levianath swallowed carefully. He had to remind himself never to piss this kid off, if ever again he was presented with the chance. It almost felt as if the air itself around them had become hostile just with Julian's shift in mood.

"Get 'em outta here," the Goblin ordered, and Levianath felt hands grab his arms and hoist him to his feet. Her voice was disdainful. "I don't wanna see their pretty faces ever again."

* * *

**Now... Let's see. What could _possibly_ happen to a cargo ship in contested waters? ;)**


	6. Into the Fire

**Two chapters this weekend. :D I'm so sporadic these days. Sorry 'bout that!**

**Julian barely gets any words at all in this chapter. Poor Julian. **

**Responses:**

**Noriana26: Yes! :D This chapter is crazy. At least, compared to the others. And YESS I'm glad you guys picked up on that. Norivana is going to have her part to play. Everyone's all focused on Lucian. Little do they know, there's a very pissed tiger-mama Rogue out there to find her baby.**

**NyteKnight: I'm cracking up that you and Noriana26 had the same idea. xD**

**Zarabethe: Oooh yes, it's a rare thing, his anger. We might only see it a few more times total in this story. But when we do... Mwahahaha. :D And yes! I should've addressed that; my sister and I actually talked about whether he'd have portals or not. We sort of concluded that, like his Druidic training, he's still a newbie. He's better at the frost magic and minor charms and conjuring and what have you, but big things like portals and stuff he still has not delved into. **

**ChelinkaTheArchmage: YES! ALL OF THOSE! Ahahah cracking me up here. :P I'm jealous of your hot cocoa, but not legal homework. Nope, not for me! **

* * *

The old wooden planks of the ship groaned and creaked as the vessel surged through the open sea. Levianath's fingers tingled after remaining static for nearly the entire time he'd been on this ship. Had it been weeks? Likely, yes. They ate once a day, shackled to the walls within cells below deck. They were lucky to have a full glass of fresh water with their meals. Levianath took this as the slavers' precaution against his and Julian's magic. Hard to do magic with no energy or mana. It was almost torturous, though, being shackled only feet away from the food storage. Across the small room, Levianath could see crates of citrus fruits sitting closest to him. He'd trained himself not to look at them, but just knowing they were there was quite distressing. He was so hungry.

The two had been placed into identical cells and were shackled to the floors. They never spoke now; there was nothing to talk about, and neither had enough energy to do it anyways. Julian had quit talking on the third day, and as Levianath now looked over at the boy, he felt worry rise in the back of his mind. Julian's eyes were burdened with dark circles, and his mouth rested in a permanent frown that tugged at exaggerating dimples in his chin that had previously never been seen.

A particularly forceful lurch in the ship's motion had Levianath's stomach reeling. He heard footsteps pick up overhead, a scattered 'thump thump' and shadows pass over the thin beams of dusty sunlight that had fought their way through the gaps between the deck's planks. Within just a few minutes (or was it more? Time was immeasurable), those sunshafts began to fade into a darker hue, then to a bluish light, and then were barely there at all. A loud, vast rumble made the walls of the ship shudder.

Levianath let his head fall back against the bowed wall. This was a thunderstorm. As if the rocking of the ship on calmer waters wasn't bad enough.

The ship rocked violently again over what he could only guess was a great swell in the water, tipping the vessel to the side and sending its nose high into the air. Levianath began to tumble to the side, if not for being shackled to the wall. The metal around his wrists dug into his arms as gravity pulled him the opposite direction. A glance in Julian's direction showed that the kid had the fortitude of a ragdoll right now. Wherever the ship leaned, Julian did too, uncaring that the shackles at his wrists were now cutting into his skin. Either he was too fatigued to take care of himself, or he didn't care.

Levianath heard shouts and unintelligible orders from higher positions being called out above. As the ship crashed back down, items around the cells began to slide from one wall to the other, and suddenly all the crates of food began to slide onto the ground, spilling their contents all over the floor. The fruits, seemingly oranges, began to roll with the swaying of the ship. It tipped to one side, and suddenly Levianath was met with dozens of oranges that rolled across the floors and into his and Julian's cells.

Without a second thought, he grabbed one in his shackled hands and ripped at the peel frantically. If anyone were to come down those stairs over there, this food would be confiscated in seconds. Who would have thought a single, half-ripened fruit could be so precious?

As he tore the bitter skin from the meat, he glanced over at Julian.

"Hey!" he exclaimed to the kid. "Julian! Look up!"

The boy didn't budge, his entire body still entirely slack. His eyes were half-lidded, and he stared at nothing. Dark, crimson blood trickled down one wrist from when he'd scraped it on the shackles. The boy needed energy.

"Julian!" Levianath shouted now. Everyone upstairs was shouting; one more voice would be lost among theirs. "Eat! Grab that orange by your hand, and eat! Now!"

At the mention of food, Julian stirred, but that was about it. His head lifted barely, hands clenched up slightly, and then he stilled again. Levianath growled to himself and bit into the fruit, grabbing another one beside him before they all would decide to roll away again. He piled a few into his lap, and began to eat them as fast as he could. He went through four fruits before looking back over at Julian's slumped form. Levianath was used to going for long spells of not eating, so this wasn't as bad as it could've been. But he guessed that Julian had never had that issue, and it was obvious now. He couldn't handle this level of pseudo-starvation.

"Julian," he coaxed again. "Wake. Up. You _need_ to eat something."

The boy didn't respond, so Levianath grabbed an orange and chucked it through the bars. It hit the kid's arm and then rolled a few feet out in front of him. Julian didn't even react.

"Damn it all!" Levianath hissed angrily, slamming one fist into the floor. "What's the use? Why the hell should I even care?" He glared over at Julian as he finished off another fruit. "You got me into all of this. I shouldn't care. I should hate you."

The ship swayed, and a non-responsive Julian crumpled over, his red hair falling over his face toward the floor. Levianath heard loud shouts overhead and another boom of thunder, though this one sounded different. Closer, louder, almost...not like thunder.

Another one sounded, and half a second later, the entire far wall of the ship splintered into a thousand pieces. With a shout of surprise, Levianath shielded his eyes with his forearm and felt the splinters hit him like shrapnel. He was pretty sure at least one or two had punctured the exposed skin on his arms, but they were small enough that it wasn't a big deal. The larger pieces had been blocked by the cell bars. If ever he were to be thankful for imprisonment, it was now.

His heart was pumping. It wasn't until he saw that the iron bars of his cage had been dented in that he realized what had done this: a cannon ball. Not only were they in the middle of a storm, but they were under attack in the middle of a storm. By whom, he had no idea, but he could only hope they didn't intend to sink the ship.

Another part of the wall shattered, and murky saltwater began to rush in through the gash in the wall. With a single silent prayer sent off to no one in particular, Levianath began to draw at his magic pool. There had to be something there now; his energy had increased tenfold after consuming those oranges. A nice drink of fresh water would be nice, and he had to remind himself that the water lapping at his feet and legs as he sat in it was diluted with salt. It would be the opposite of refreshing, despite how great it felt on his skin.

After a few moments of intense concentration, he finally felt it: the spark of his fel magic began to ignite, and he began to chant his spell under his breath. He needed to get out of these shackles. With a few more rounds of his summoning, he felt his arms infuse with the strength of the demon he'd summoned, the same one he'd used to break that lock in the orchard. Levianath let out a snicker as he sensed the anger coming from the creature. Oh, how he missed this feeling. It was empowering and corrupting all at once, and he felt a comfortable, dulling layer of calm wash over his mind as he felt his power returning. The fel energy dulled his emotions and increased his instinct. He needed to survive. And seeing as this ship was going down, he needed to get out of the shackles.

"Break these," he ordered the demon, and it did as he said without the option of argument. He had full control over this creature. Control: a feeling he'd been deprived of since the moment he had woken up in that jungle.

Levianath stood up, legs sore from their lack of use. He sensed the demon beside him practically oozing with fel energy, and he took the liberty of stealing some of it for himself. He had discovered the talent of stealing others' energy a few years ago and had used it sparingly, save for demons. The demon had a lot more where that came from.

He made the demon break the bars of his cell and stepped out of it, feet sloshing through the deepening flood. Fruit and other items were floating around his legs, and as a precaution he grabbed a few pieces and wrapped them up in a swatch of soaked cloth that hung from a hook on a nearby support beam. He was making this all up as he went along; he didn't know what he'd meet when he got upstairs, who was attacking this ship, or how close he was to land. Food might be nice, if it ended up he managed to escape.

He made for the stairs, and then paused. He glanced back at the cells. The young hybrid elf was still shackled in place, halfway-submerged in deepening water. Levianath grimaced. The boy was as good as dead anyways, and he'd only slow Levianath down.

Levianath took a few steps up, then looked at Julian again. After a few moments, he swore loudly and smacked a hand against the wall beside the stairs. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, then sighed. He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave the kid, not after everything.

The demon behind him continued to growl angrily, and Levianath turned back toward it, addressing it directly. He pointed back toward Julian.

"Save him. Keep him alive, and get him off this ship."

The demon, whose eyes were really the only non-transient part of it, simply glared, though this in itself was acquiescence. Levianath nodded once, and headed up the stairs. He paused at the hatch, steeling himself for the apparent chaos above; explosions and shouting could be heard in a constant drone. To his surprise, though, the hatch was yanked open before he could do it himself, and he was suddenly face-to-face with a slaver, whose face was dirtied and blackened and had blood pooling at one corner of his mouth. Rain fell hard all around, and Levianath welcomed it. It was cold on his face, refreshing on his chapped lips.

The two opponents shared a momentary staredown before the other man attacked first. He grabbed Levianath by the shirt and yanked him up onto the deck, but before he could get a chance to actually attack, Levianath rolled off to the side and stood, backing up until he'd cornered himself against the captain's cabin. He grabbed a stray, shattered rod of wood in one hand as a weapon, and in the other hand drew shadow energy into his palm. The fruit he'd tied to his waist jostled and was distracting, but he wouldn't leave it.

The slaver, instead of attacking Levianath, glanced to the side and leapt backward, just in time for one of the ship's tall masts to come crashing down where he'd just stood. Levianath lost his balance at the impact and fell sideways against one wall, hitting full-force against one shoulder. His weapon fell and rolled away, and the oranges in his makeshift satchel came loose and rolled out onto the floor at his feet.

Now recovered, the slaver came at Levianath again, and with nothing else to defend himself, Levianath grabbed one of the oranges at his feet and threw it at the man, successfully hitting him square in the face. Of course, this only stalled him for a second, but Levianath took another one and with some minor difficulty tore it in half, and the second the slaver reached him, the half-elf took both halves of the orange and squeezed juice into the man's eyes.

The slaver cried out in surprise and obvious pain, now blinded, and Levianath smirked despite the dire nature of his situation. These oranges had proven their worth far more than he had expected.

Chaos all around, Levianath ran to the edge of the deck and peered through the rain off toward the opposing ship. A single glance, and he knew these attackers were pirates. A black flag with a vivid red moon in the middle flew at the top mast, and the sails themselves were dyed a dark blood hue. To his surprise, both ships were almost perilously close to the Tanaris shore, possibly due to the storm.

Levianath, after seeing the shore, made a split decision. If he had to choose between dying in the hands of slavers, in the hands of pirates, or on his own, he'd choose the last. The swim to shore wasn't impossibly far. He could make it. He backed up a few steps, orienting himself toward shore, and without much hesitation, he took a running leap off into the water.

Unexpectedly, though, as soon as his feet left the ship, it exploded.

A flash of green light, a deafening boom, and Levianath was thrown hard into the water. The salt burned his sinuses as it forced its way into the back of his throat. As he sank down a few feet below, he was almost entirely sure that him being underwater was the only thing that kept him from being skewered or struck with giant, shattered slabs of wood. Heavy debris fell all around him, and he dodged as well as he could, watching an entire cannon hit the surface and sink not ten feet from him. He fought against the pull and current it created, threatening to sink him with it. He forced himself to stay under for another ten seconds before finally surfacing, gasping a huge breath of fresh air and being tossed about by violent waves.

A single thought hit him, dread washing over him even stronger than the water that tried to drag him under. Julian had been on that ship.

He blinked the water from his eyes. Debris littered the water around him, anywhere from wood of the ship to broken crates, to half-destroyed bodies of those who'd been caught in the blast. Levianath refused to check faces, mostly in fear of recognizing the boy he'd spent his imprisonment with.

The debris was engulfed in fel fire, green flames licking at it even underwater. This wasn't a normal explosion, it was... _fel_ fire. And if Levianath hadn't been the cause of it, the only other thing he knew of on that ship that'd had enough power to create a blast like that was the demon he'd put in charge of freeing Julian.

Sputtering, the Warlock reached out and grabbed a large plank for buoyancy, unaffected by the flames that tried to eat at his skin as he came into contact. As soon as he had a good amount of leverage, he began to shout, eyes searching frantically for any sign of life.

"Julian!" he bellowed, but the sound was swallowed by a sudden crack of thunder. The rain intensified, nearly blinding him, and he could barely see ten feet in any direction. He called the boy's name again and again until he was hoarse. He'd lost his sense of direction, and could not see the shore.

He saw something drifting toward him, what looked to be a far larger hunk of wood, something he could actually climb onto. He released the plank he'd been holding and swam to the raft. As he pulled himself up onto it, he nearly choked in surprise at who was lying on it.

"Julian!" he exclaimed in shock, immediately leaning down and pressing an ear to the boy's chest. A very subtle rhythm was present, and Levianath let out an incredulous laugh, leaning back onto his heels. He noted that the raft had been crafted; someone had taken the time to make it and ensure Julian would not fall off.

"That damned creature actually did something right," he chuckled.

Julian stirred at the sound of Levianath's voice, and to his surprise, he saw the kid's eyes flick open.

Julian groaned, and then a smile stretched lazily onto his face. "Lev, I think the ship exploded."

Levianath began to laugh, something he found he did often around this kid. "You're very correct." He looked around, ignoring the pouring rain and the thunder.

The redheaded elf grinned sloppily, with sopping wet red hair still sticking to his face. "That was _extremely_ cool."

Levianath smirked and searched for land again. The rain began to let up until it was a light sprinkle, and although the clouds still loomed, he could see the edge of the falling rain as it moved away.

It wasn't until a towering, dark form parted through the rain that Levianath realized they'd been drifting, and he began to paddle frantically out of the way, afraid that he was about to be hit by the pirate ship itself. He heard voices from the ship, and only after a few seconds did he realize that his attempts were futile. In a matter of seconds, they'd be crushed.

In a last attempt at survival, Levianath grabbed Julian and launched both himself and the boy off of the raft and into the water, as far as possible from the advancing ship. It wasn't more than half a dozen feet, but it was better than nothing, and as he and Julian sank into the deep water, he felt Julian come to his senses and begin to act as well. And thank goodness, too, because Levianath would not have been able to hold the kid up as well as himself; Julian was, oddly enough, bigger than he was. Julian kept himself mostly afloat, and Levianath pulled them further from the ship. They were avoiding it only by a matter of a few feet.

Just when Levianath thought that they were in the clear, he felt something hook onto his shirt at his shoulder and tug. He let out a shout of surprise and yanked himself free, but then heard a voice.

"Oy! We got survivors!"

It came from whatever had been pulling on him, and he glanced back to see a burly-looking human man with salt-and-pepper hair dragging Julian out of the water and onto a lowered three-foot-square platform. Levianath followed the rope the platform was attached to and noted that it hooked around a pulley-like device up on a beam above deck. Almost like a lift of some sort.

Levianath, not wanting to get left behind, swam back over to the platform just as the man turned back around for him. The man held out his forearm, and Levianath gripped it and was promptly pulled out of the water. The man tugged on the rope, and the platform began to raise.

The human looked at Levianath in the face for the first time, and reacted as if he'd just been shot. He stumbled back and almost fell off the platform, but then got his bearings by grabbing onto the center rope.

"Blimey! What are _you_ doin' on a cargo ship all the way down in Tanaris?" the man exploded.

Levianath blinked. He was entirely, one hundred percent positive that he had never encountered this man in his life. But before he got a chance to respond, the platform reached the deck, and suddenly at least six pairs of hands helped the three down. There was a lot of talking, shouting, shoving, and Levianath mostly just did his best not to lose sight of Julian as the two were bustled over to the opposite side of the deck. Julian, still weak, sat down immediately against the wall, so Levianath followed suit, sitting right next to him.

Levianath could pick up a few words thrown in here and there. 'What's he doing here?' seemed to be a common one. It seemed as if everyone knew _him_, but he knew no one. However, he was simply relieved to have a solid floor beneath his feet, and he let his head fall back against the wall he leaned on. He didn't particularly care what happened to him and Julian now. These were pirates; Levianath and Julian had nothing on themselves, nothing of value. As long as these people weren't also slavers, he honestly wasn't too worried. They'd either dump them here in Tanaris or, if he was lucky, back in the Eastern Kingdoms.

...Or they'd kill him, which was undesirable, but what control did he have over that now?

He heard a louder voice cut in.

"Move over," the voice said, sounding almost like a young boy. "Scooch. Coming through. Rodney, move your big ass and let me through."

Levianath lifted a brow and brought his head forward again, searching for the owner of the voice. Suddenly, a boy pushed through between two fairly large men, and immediately his inky-brown eyes fell on Levianath. Levianath lifted both brows. He couldn't tell, actually, if this was a boy or a girl. Dark, scruffy hair and a dirt-smudged face, lanky posture and tattered clothing, it could easily be a very boyish girl. On the other hand, it could also be a girly boy. He/she looked to be about sixteen either way.

The kid pushed his (her? his.) way in front of Levianath and dropped down to one knee, now eye-level. He cocked his head. What was said next made Levianath's spine suddenly tingle with a mixture between eerie suspicion and surprise.

"Darkrunner?" the kid questioned, brows raising. Even the voice could be feminine.

Levianath's eyes widened, and he swallowed. "How do you know my name?"

The kid scoffed, and everyone around him laughed as well.

"Very funny, Captain," the kid laughed, standing up, holding a hand out to help Levianath stand as well. "Your ship has missed you."

* * *

**PPWWWHAHAAAAAT?!**


	7. Impostor

**Hey! It's been a while! Sorry!  
**

**Update for review responses:**

**Kintaraheart: It does, it does! And it's okay to be an impatient brat; I always am too with other people's stories. ;D**

**Noriana26: OMG! I can't wait for what comes next of Dawnseeker. :) **

**NyteKnight: Aye, that it has. :D :D**

**Zarabethe: You and your predictions... My sis and I always chuckle at how accurate you are. x)**

**Willowstar157: THATS WHAT EVERYONE ELSE IS WONDERING TOO!**

**psalty: It could be useful, but too bad what's-her-face decided to book it straight to Stranglethorn and find the 'real' captain. xD**

**LadyRaftina: That is actually a really interesting idea..! And Julian and Lev are glad, too... ;)**

* * *

As soon as Levianath had been helped up by the teen, he felt a hand grab his forearm and tug him backward, straight into what he deduced was the captain's cabin. The door was shut abruptly, and he heard shouts of complaints outside, but no real opposition came. Stunned, he blinked a few times, noting that it was almost dark in there save for a rusty light filtering through dark red, thick curtains on both sides of the walls. A lamp was lit behind him, and the second he turned around, he found himself face-to-face with the point of a knife.

Behind that knife was a face, level with his own. A woman with pale lavender skin, vivid royal blue hair, and small, almost nonexistent tusks peeking out of the corners of her lips glared daggers into his emerald stare. Her eyes were as pure blue as her hair as they pinned him there against the wall.

"Who are you?" her demand was cold, though her voice itself was lilted in a way that could be pleasant in another situation. Levianath grimaced as she brought the knife even closer to him, leaning so close he caught the scent of the sea on her clothing. Her voice darkened to a growl. "And if you say 'Darkrunner', this blade will take your tongue, impostor." Her nose crinkled. "You reek of fel magic. Is it the source of your disguise?"

He clenched his jaw and let a sigh out through his nose, regarding her with a dark stare, speaking in a mocking tone. "Which question would you like me to answer first?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What is your name?"

"Levianath," he retorted confidently. "Levianath _Darkrunner_," he cocked his head snidely as he said his surname.

He saw her grind her teeth. "Your first mistake of impersonating our captain is giving your first name. He has never revealed his own."

Levianath just began to laugh. "I'm not impersonating _anybody_," he lifted a finger up and moved the knife away from his neck, and she seemed surprised at the bold action. He stepped forward, forcing her to take a step backward, and in a fit of what appeared to be panic, she quickly jammed the blade back to its place at his throat. He didn't flinch.

"What are you doing here, then?" she hissed, glaring, and he caught a hint of fear under her voice, though her stance was confident. Why was she so afraid of him?

"Where do I even start?" the half-elf let out a partial laugh. "I was enslaved on that ship until you attacked it."

She just donned a confused look, no words forming at her mouth. Again, Levianath directed the knife away from his neck with his index finger.

"I'm not trying to fight you," he said calmly. "I don't think a knife is necessary. I've no business with pirates. If you want to kill me, go ahead. I'm half-dead already."

Her vivid eyes simply pinned him there for a good ten seconds. Exhausted, Levianath couldn't help it and interrupted the interrogation with a wide yawn, and he covered his mouth with a fist in an attempt to stave it. His exhausted state seemed to catch the woman off-guard, and she watched him skeptically, confusion plastered on her face. Outside the door, he heard voices rise and loud raucous laughter, and he quirked a brow curiously, but ultimately kept his attention on the woman before him. He stretched his sore arms out before speaking again.

"I think our objectives are actually quite similar," his voice was tired. "You clearly don't want me here, and I don't want to be here. I'm perfectly fine with you just dropping my friend and me off at the nearest port; we can find our own way home."

"And where is 'home'? Why are you disguised as our captain? How did you find this ship?"

He sighed. "Lady, I will answer all of your questions once I don't feel like I'm about to collapse. I haven't gotten a decent night's rest in weeks, and I could do with a meal. If you'd provide that, Julian and I can be the most cooperative people on this planet."

The laughter outside became louder, and it sounded, if he wasn't mistaken, like people were singing.

The woman's brows tightened as she completely ignored the sounds outside. "You are asking a lot from someone holding you at knife point, shark."

He rolled his eyes. "You going to threaten me? Fine. Go ahead. I can't very well fight back now, can I? All I ask is for a little hospitality."

She studied him for a prolonged silence, and then finally withdrew the blade. "You will answer all of my questions?"

"I will do my very best." His tone was patronizing, which he could tell it pushed her buttons. Good.

She cocked her head at him. "This disguise... Is it magic? Are you actually human? Your facade is poorly-done; your ears give you away."

Levianath allowed a smirk. "I am half human. This is no disguise. Whoever it is you think I am impersonating, you're wrong. I know nothing of this ship nor its captain."

"Half human?" her blue eyes squinted in thought, and then a look of realization flickered into place. She studied him closely. "Do you know your parents?"

Levianath blinked at the odd question. "No, neither. My mother died early, and my father was absent."

"But do you know who your father _was_?" she asked, but Levianath just sighed and cut her off.

"No, I don't. And I told you I'd answer your questions _after_ replenishing my strength."

She sheathed her knife from where she'd been holding it by her side, and she reached out and took his arm just above the elbow. "I'll set you up with something to eat, then." She peered at him. She was tall; as tall as him, tall for a troll. Perhaps she too was a hybrid; she did not appear to be full-blooded. Half elf, half troll maybe?

She continued. "I don't want the crew getting all worked up over your identity when I don't have any answers yet. So until I get everything figured out, according to the crew, you are our captain. Understand?" The look she gave him was firm, and he nodded.

"I'd say now's the best time for me to ask you who _you_ are," he said before she could leave. He smirked tauntingly, though unintentionally so. "If I am the captain, I should know my crew."

Her glare was disconcerting; he'd never seen such an intense look on anyone other than himself.

"Fiammetta Evenstar," she said bluntly. "I am, for your information, first mate of this ship. I run it while the captain is away. The crewmembers will not notice your disguise; they rarely see the captain in person for prolonged periods of time, unlike myself. They will not notice the subtle differences."

With that, she offered no further conversation and turned away. As she took the latch on the door and pulled it open, they were both blasted with the last few lyrics of song.

"-EARLY IN THE MORNING!" Levianath recognized Julian's voice shouting the lyrics, and then suddenly everyone standing out on the deck burst into chorus: "Weigh heigh and up she rises! Weigh heigh and up she rises! Weigh heigh and up she rises, early in the morning!"

Levianath finally saw Julian as the people started to sing; he was grinning ear to ear, singing extremely off-key along with the others, looking like a half-drowned dog just happy to be alive. One sailor had his giant arm looped over Julian's neck and was singing the words to the song jubilantly, while many of the others who were tying the sails sang along while they worked.

Levianath blinked a few times, jaw slightly dropping open, and he took in the sight for a few more seconds as the song came to an end, with everyone holding the last note and cheering. A few of the sailors saw Levianath and shouted the word 'captain' in a sort of praise. Julian caught sight of Levianath and tugged out of the one sailor's hold, his grin remaining in place. He walked with a bit of a stumble, and Levianath noted that the kid's eyes were drooping as a sign of exhaustion.

Julian's voice was gleeful, and quite loud. "I have never been so tired in my life!" he shouted eagerly, laughing again and wobbling a little off balance. "And I once slept for an entire year! True story!"

The surrounding sailors all roared with laughter at Julian's mannerisms.

The boy threw his arms to the sides, looking up at the ship's flag. "Where did you find this ship? This one is so much better than the one you exploded!" He stumbled a few steps closer, and held a hand up to his mouth to give the illusion of telling a secret. "Also, I'm pretty sure we just got caught by pirates."

Levianath stared a second longer, and he shook his head incredulously. "How the hell are you standing right now?"

The redheaded elf burst into laughter, almost as if drunk, but Levianath knew it was all due to sleep deprivation. Julian glanced behind himself, apparently saw something that entertained him, and then pointed at a man sitting across the deck. "Whoa! He likes oranges, too!" Julian exclaimed, and Levianath followed the boy's direction to see a man who was indeed eating an orange. Julian looked so proud of his observation, and he regarded Levianath with generous excitement. "You two have _so much_ in common! Can you _believe_ it?"

"Julian," Levianath said, now unable to keep a smirk from forming at one corner of his mouth. The poor kid was out of his mind with malnutrition, dehydration and sleep deprivation. "I will give you a choice: would you like to eat and then sleep, or sleep and then eat? Our lovely first mate here is supplying accommodations for us."

Julian made a 'duh' face. "Eat first, always." He swayed a little where he stood, possibly from the motion of the ship in the water, but most likely due to his loopy state. "I don't really remember what food tastes like," he grimaced.

Levianath rolled his eyes at the kid's dramatics and glanced over at Fiammetta, who had been watching the two's exchange with skeptical eyes. Levianath sighed.

"He needs hydration, nutrition, and sleep."

"Clearly," the woman agreed with distaste. "Bring him into the captain's cabin; I will have our cabin boy fetch food. And then you will answer my questions."

Levianath stepped forward and took Julian by the shoulder, directing him toward the cabin. He closed the door behind himself, which was surprisingly decent at blocking sound, so that when it was closed, all that could be heard was muffled voices instead of the constant, loud drone of people interacting. Obviously it was still loud, but not remotely as bad.

Levianath set Julian down in an antique-looking armchair that was nailed to the floor in the corner of the room. Set into the wall was a bed, almost like an inverted shelf, and strewn about the cabin's surfaces were countless layers of parchments and scrolls and writing materials and maps. The lamp was still lit that Fiammetta had ignited, and it cast flickering shadows across the room.

Levianath walked about to observe the various papers and after a few beats glanced back at Julian, only to see that the boy had his head lolled to the side and was out cold. Levianath smirked and sighed.

"Me, too, kid," Levianath murmured to himself, lifting up one paper to look at a roughly-sketched map underneath. He felt absolutely exhausted, and his thoughts were scattered, but for some reason he didn't feel in danger on this ship. That looming feeling of doom he'd had for weeks was absent, and this alone boosted his energy enough to keep him sane. He was tired, but he wouldn't sleep right now. What's-her-face, Fiammetta, would be back any moment with food and questions, and Levianath was determined to get both of those over with before he let himself rest.

He could, he thought to himself, technically, summon his imp right now. Pip'tai's portals had a radius of about one or two miles, which would be useless once they were far out at sea, but the creature hadn't been summoned in weeks. Technically, the creature could show up on his own if he truly wanted to, but Levianath suspected that Pip'tai either had no clue what had been going on these past few weeks, or possibly he'd just been avoiding it all on purpose. He was a demon, after all, and despite him being bound to Levianath, as long as Levianath wasn't dying, Pip'tai most likely preferred to sit it out. The less work, the better, in the demon's eyes.

Levianath ended up nixing the idea of summoning his 'friend'. At least, for right now. Maybe once he'd had some decent rest, he could do it easier, and the spell wouldn't drain so much out of him.

The door creaked open, and Levianath saw that same kid who'd first called him Captain waltz in with an armful of food, along with a tin platter of what looked like boiled potatoes. Levianath lifted a brow.

"Potatoes?" he asked curiously, and the kid nodded.

"Aye, Cap'n, you know Cook loves her potatoes," the skinny teen said, flipping his (her?) hair to the side and then letting the armful of food spill out onto the table: lots of fruit, and what looked like dried meats.

Levianath stared at the kid, trying to find a definitive feature to mark his gender. Finally, he just decided to go for it.

"What's your name again?" Levianath asked after a second of staring at the gender-neutral kid.

The kid turned and sent him a peculiar look. "You really forgot? It's only been a few months, Cap. The name's Reece Black, but the crew call me Urchin. Don't really know why; I don't have a lot in common with the sea creatures, truly." The kid sniffed. "I ain't prickly, either."

Levianath sighed, internally grumbling to himself. The name, for goodness' sake, was neutral. He gritted his teeth, preparing for a poor reaction to his following question.

"Forgive me," Levianath began uncomfortably, 'but I am becoming increasingly curious as to whether your name is a boy's name, or a girl's."

The kid paused, then stared at Levianath for an extended silence (most likely only five seconds, but felt like much longer), and suddenly burst out laughing.

"You're asking me if I'm a boy or a girl?! Captain, you already know my story," the kid chortled playfully. "I'm a girl. But remember, please don't tell the crew."

"You mean the crew doesn't know?" Levianath lifted his brows.

Reece began to look slightly suspicious. "Far as they know, I'm a seventeen-year-old runaway boy from Redridge Mountains."

Levianath stared at her. "And what are you truly?"

"A seventeen-year-old runaway girl from Redridge Mountains," Reece smirked, then cocked her head. "You really forgot all of that?" He caught an underlying tone that showed she was slightly hurt.

Levianath cleared his throat. "No, I didn't actually forget; I was just fact-checking you," he said calmly. "You passed."

Reece's face brightened again, and suddenly everything was totally fine. "Good to know. Need anything else, Captain?"

"Fresh water, and lots of it," Levianath suggested. Reece nodded quickly.

"Sure thing," she piped, and slid back out the door.

Levianath picked up the least-bruised apple he could find and was pleased that it was still acceptably fresh. He took a bite, relishing its sweetness that contrasted the smell of salt in the air and the leftover aftertaste of saltwater from the ocean. Before long, Reece returned with another armful, this time of canteens of water. She set them out on the table, and Levianath couldn't help but smile at her helpfulness.

"Thank you, Miss Black," he nodded at her and took a canteen, uncorked it, and downed it.

She sent him an odd glance. "You've never called me that before."

His eyes flicked to her as he drank, and then he capped the canteen. "What would you like me to call you?"

"Um, whatever you prefer, I guess."

"And what would I normally call you?"

She just stared at him. "More fact-checking?"

He simply sent her a partial smirk, then looked back down at the canteen. "Reece it is."

She brightened, grinning widely, and her eyes traveled around the room. They fell on Julian, who was still out cold.

"Who is he?" she asked curiously.

Levianath thought for a long pause, unsure of what to say. "A friend," he finally murmured. With that statement, he felt an unfamiliar seedling of warmth settle into his mind. This was the first person in his life he truly considered in such a way. Julian was his _friend_.

Reece walked to Julian carefully, her steps seeming light and silent. In a way that could to some be described as entertaining, she folded her hands behind her back and leaned her torso sideways until her face was at the same angle as Julian's; his head was tilted down toward the floor, and her hair followed gravity as she stared at the boy.

"He's too pretty to be a pirate," she announced suddenly, standing upright again. "Not a scratch on him, save for the calluses on his hands and shackle cuts on his wrists. Where'd you find this kid, Darkrunner?"

"This is going to sound wildly unoriginal, but Julian actually found me," Levianath smirked.

Reece rocked back and forth on her feet for a few beats, and then looked over at the bed. "Does he have to sleep in this chair? He looks so uncomfortable."

Levianath shrugged. "I suppose a bed would be better."

Reece immediately responded by walking around behind Julian and looping her arms under his and grabbing hold around his chest. She nodded her head toward his feet. "Help me carry him?"

Levianath hid a smirk at how funny that looked; the girl was so puny in comparison to the night elf she was attempting to pick up. Even with how tall the human was, Julian had her beaten in every aspect. His arms were twice the size of hers, and _he_ was skinny. This was one of the first times Levianath noticed how big the kid really was. Took after his father, apparently.

Levianath took the boy's feet, and in a team effort, the two of them managed to get him into the bed and put a blanket over him. The half-elf then sighed.

"He'll be hungry when he wakes; he hasn't eaten in a long time. I don't know how he was functioning out there on the deck, let alone singing."

Reece snickered. "He's a terrible singer."

Their conversation was interrupted when the door swung open again, and Fiammetta walked in. The troll-elf shooed Reece out of the room, and then motioned toward the table and chairs near the door.

"Sit, and let us talk," she requested. Her tone now was far less demanding than before.

Levianath did as she'd asked and pulled out a seat for himself, then slumped down in it halfheartedly. He'd promised her answers, and here he was, grudgingly prepared to comply, despite his mind having to work exponentially harder than usual to form conscious thoughts.

She sat across from him and stared at him for a few beats. "Your name is Levianath?"

"Yes. I am from Stormwind City, but for the past few years I've been traveling basically anywhere I can hitchhike a free ride."

"And you said you do not know who your father is?"

"No, I don't. Why do you keep asking that?"

She cocked her head. Levianath almost caught a trace of a smile. "I'm asking the questions here, shark."

"Shark?" he managed a tired smirk. That was the second time she'd called him that.

"It is what you are, is it not? I have heard of people like you. Captains of rival ships or guilds infiltrating another through disguise. I'm just shocked you thought Darkrunner would be a good idea."

Levianath sighed in defeat, leaning his chin in his elbow. His eyes drooped. If he had the energy right now, he'd talk her ears off and explain as much as he could, but his thoughts were becoming jumbled with his exhaustion.

What's-her-face said something again, but he didn't catch it. His limbs felt like lead, as did his eyelids, and in just a few seconds, the man was blissfully asleep.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

It was his stomach that woke him, and he sat up abruptly, only to be met with something hard colliding with his forehead with the action. He winced and audibly grunted, blinking up at what he'd hit his head on. He looked around. He was in some sort of oddly-comfortable nook, like a bed. His eyes stung as they opened and closed, still exhausted, and every single muscle in his body ached stiffly.

His barren stomach complained again, feeling as if it were twisting itself into a knot. He felt weak, shaky, and his sight was blurred, but one sense overpowered the rest almost painfully: his sense of smell.

He could smell food nearby, and he stood uneasily, wobbling over to what appeared to be a table covered in fruit. He vaguely noticed a sleeping form on the ground near the windows on the far end, but ignored it. His mouth was watering as he regarded the food; he'd never seen something so...perfect. And even better, he noted as he sat down at the table, was that he also saw what he deduced was some form of peppered jerky. To top all of that off was a canteen brimming with fresh, sweet water.

He downed it all in a matter of minutes; every last bit to his own surprise, and even when he was done, his stomach still shouted for more. He still felt dizzy and weak, but that horrible gnawing pain in his stomach was gone, and he felt indescribably better already. He stood, making his way to the door, and after a few failed attempts at working the latch, he finally swung it open.

He'd expected sunlight, but was met with the opposite. Cool, blue moonlight trickled down and blanketed the entire deck of the ship. Sails fluttered in the wind, their red color looking black against the night sky, and every direction he looked was all open ocean. The waves were constant, slight swells that kept the ship in a rhythm.

Deckhands who were working glanced over at Julian's arrival and sent him silent greetings. He returned with waves, not recognizing any of them but pleased with their friendliness, and peered around, wondering where he could find more to eat. Although what he'd already consumed was enough for two meals for a normal person, Julian had already come to the conclusion that he was very much not a normal person, and he recalled what his mother had once told him of how by the time he was thirteen, he ate as much as (or possibly more than) his own father ate on a daily basis.

Basically, Julian ate a lot - and constantly. So having gone this long without eating, it had been hell for him, far worse than anything else he'd experienced to this point.

"Hey! It's the songbird himself!" Julian heard a boyish voice call out, and he turned, recognizing its owner as the cabin boy. Julian smirked and rolled his eyes slightly, turning toward the lanky teen.

"If I barely remember it, can we pretend it didn't happen?" he laughed.

The kid had dirt smudged on his chin and under one eye, and dimples formed on his freckly cheeks when he grinned and shook his head. "That's never a good out. You have the voice of a nightingale."

Julian snickered when he caught the sarcasm. "That bad?"

The kid jokingly stuck his fingers in his ears, and Julian smirked. The boy held out his hand to shake.

"Reece Black," he announced, and Julian shook his hand.

"Julian," he replied, unsure of whether to surrender his surname or not, but Reece didn't request it anyways.

Julian's stomach audibly growled, and Reece lifted his brows.

"Want some chow?"

Julian shrugged. "I already ate everything in the cabin, but apparently that wasn't enough."

Reece gained a look of appreciation. "Hey, you like to eat. I can respect that."

With that, Julian was led below deck, passing a lot of people who stared at him, some friendlier than others, some recognizing him as 'songbird'. Apparently he'd made an impression in his half-hallucinating state of malnutrition, which was even still affecting him now. He hadn't truly accepted the idea that he was on a pirate ship, and said pirates were not forcing him into any form of labor or selling him or, even worse, killing him on the spot. In all honesty, he wasn't _sure_ that these even were pirates in the first place.

He was given some form of dried meat and more boiled potatoes, which he began to practically inhale. Reece sat across from him, staring at him as he ate. After his third helping, Reece grimaced.

"You're going to make yourself sick by eating this much, you know?"

Julian shrugged, speaking through a mouthful. "I don't care."

A few beats passed.

Reece cleared his throat. "If nothing else, you'll probably get fat."

"Good. I want to be fat."

"That's dumb," Reece laughed playfully.

"You're dumb," Julian retorted without pause, glancing up at the dirty, heavily-freckled face across from him. Reece's inky eyes locked on his in a staredown, but then Julian won when Reece reached down and retrieved a canteen of water, handing it across the broken wooden tabletop. Julian downed it in a matter of seconds.

Reece cocked his head. "How long did you go without eating anyway?"

Julian shrugged, taking another large bite. "I ate once a day for a few weeks; some days were skipped. By the end, I just stopped altogether. Couldn't eat, really. It made me sick." He took another drink, and finished his plate. Finally, he looked back up at Reece.

"How long have you been on this ship?" he asked the human.

"Four years."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

Julian squinted his eyes. "You look a lot younger than that. You're too skinny. Maybe _you_ should get fat."

Reece looked defensive. "Well how old are _you_?"

"Eighteen," Julian said smugly.

"You look younger than that, too," Reece folded his arms.

Julian stared at the boy again, and then finally shrugged, grinning. "Why thank you. Elf perk, probably. So how long did I sleep?" It had felt like a few hours, but Julian in particular wasn't the best judge of time these days.

"Three days," Reece said simply. "We tried to get some food in you a few times, but you were out cold. We worried you wouldn't wake up. And Captain Darkrunner has been the same, though he did eat before he fell asleep that first day. What was the captain doing on the slavers' ship, by the way?"

"You mean Levianath?" Julian asked hesitantly.

Reece gave him a blank look. "Who?"

"The elf you rescued with me? The one you keep calling captain?"

Reece's eyes widened to saucers. "You know the captain's name?"

"Well, I know that 'Captain Darkrunner' is called Levianath."

Reece suddenly lit up, grinning ear to ear, and Julian just watched him. The boy did _not_ look the age he had reported. He was too...delicate, somehow. Julian couldn't put his finger on it.

Reece leaned in. "Did you tell any of the other crew?"

"No, should I have?"

He shook his head. "Nope, definitely not." He continued to grin. "I can't believe I now know the captain's first name!"

Julian just blinked, giving him a confused look, and then shook his head as well. What a weird kid. Why did everyone think Levianath was captain? What was going on? He then got a sudden, suspicious thought. _Was_ Levianath their captain?

* * *

By morning, the ship had nearly reached its destination. Which, apparently, was the bustling port of Booty Bay. The bay was visible on the horizon, and as Julian sat out near the edge of the ship's deck, he watched silently it as it slowly rose out of the sea with the progression of the ship.

Julian had ended up pulling an all-nighter in the company of Reece; the two argued most of their time together, but it was an entertaining banter that Julian enjoyed; it was almost like talking to a mirror. Reece and him were so similar, and so different, too, and Julian appreciated the kid's approach on the world. Reece had a level of genuine optimism that Julian didn't see very often, and it was nice to experience it from someone other than himself for a change.

Julian and Reece sat with their feet dangling over the edge of the railing. At first, Julian had been hesitant to sit so precariously close to the edge, but Reece had talked him into it, and he was glad. It was definitely one of the best places to sit out of the whole thing. He could see the deep blue water surge beneath them, the waves lapping at the sides of the boat, and on occasion, he saw dolphins and at one point when the sun had just barely begun to peek over the horizon, a whale had surfaced.

His mind traveled to his worries; he needed to contact his family now more than ever. How long had it been, a month now? More? And what about Lily? He recalled that Goblin boss saying something about her being at another camp. It was a wonder that Levianath and Julian hadn't been separated in all this time.

Apparently Julian's frown was more evident than he'd intended, because Reece gave him a look and spoke up.

"What's eatin' ya?" Reece pried, "If you don't mind me asking."

"I need to get a letter out somehow," Julian murmured.

"Really? I can show you how," Reece said enthusiastically, sliding back off of the railing and onto his feet. "It's easy."

Julian quirked a brow. "You can send letters from this ship?"

Reece grinned that trademark, impish smile that Julian had familiarized with in so little time. "C'mon."

Julian followed after the skinny teen, off to a level below deck, and into a small room filled with scrolls and quills. A single window let some light in through its foggy yellowed panes. The raggedy kid pulled out a thin parchment and an inkwell and slopped them down onto a wooden desk, then motioned for Julian to sit in the vacant seat in front of it.

"Here ya go. Write your letter, and then I'll show you how to send it."

Julian took the quill. He had to be concise with his wording, as the paper wasn't all _that_ big.

_Mom, _

_First off, I'm alive. Levianath and I were taken into forced labor at a Goblins' excavation camp in Stranglethorn Vale. We managed to escape, but now we are both currently in the hands of pirates. They're feeding us, at least. And they're letting me send this letter, which is a good sign. They think Levianath is someone he's not, and he's getting special treatment. Me, too, by extension.  
We want to come home. I know Dad is good at diplomacy; he could help without making things violent, right?  
We're just about to arrive at Booty Bay, and I'm hoping they will allow Levianath and me to leave. _

_I love you and miss you. Maybe see you soon._

_-Julian_

_P.S.: I think Lily is in a different camp. We need to find her._

A smudge of ink found its way at the bottom of the paper, but Julian didn't care. He wasn't looking for neatness; he just wanted this to go to his mother as soon as possible.

He looked up at Reece, who had been sitting on the desk and fiddling with a feather quill while Julian wrote. He handed the letter to Reece, who, without even reading it, fanned it for a moment to dry and then folded it in half.

"Address it normally."

Julian did just that. The kid glanced up at Julian, then stood from the desk and pointed toward an odd contraption.

"That's our mailbox," Reece announced brightly, taking the letter again.

Julian lifted a brow. "Is it connected to the nexus?"

Reece nodded. "It'll appear at whichever mailbox your intended recipient checks first."

Julian grinned. "I'm impressed. How'd you manage it?"

"It's high-tech and complicated. Engineers made it; I doubt you'd understand it any more than I do."

"And what if I would? I've had two years' worth of engineering training."

Reece smiled. "You're full of surprises, songbird. Got any money on you?"

Julian shook his head. Normally, I would. It was taken.

"I'll spot you the postage just this once," Reece piped, attaching a handful of silvers to a tube-like contraption and then stuffing the letter inside as well. He inserted it into the mailbox, and off it went.

They heard raised voices upstairs as they felt the ship come to a slowed speed, and it then stopped completely, save for its sway on the water. Reece looked back at Julian.

"Sounds like we're here," he said enthusiastically. Julian swallowed. Did this mean he could go home?

Reece reached out and took Julian by the arm, tugging him along behind.

"I do, though, wonder why we are in Booty Bay in the first place," the cabin boy mused mostly to himself. "We were supposed to be in Tanaris until October while Captain worked an angle here against the Saltsprocket dig sites."

"Saltsprocket," Julian said abruptly. "That sounds familiar."

Reece nodded. "Same people who had you on that ship before it exploded. We've been going after them for some time. They've taken more than their share of our men and women for their work."

They both heard the voices upstairs become even louder, and Julian saw Reece frown as he looked around at the emptiness below deck.

"Something's up," the boy said in a low tone. "Everyone's upstairs. C'mon."

Julian was practically dragged up the steps to the deck, and he nearly stumbled twice before finding his footing, bumping into Reece as they surfaced. Reece had paused mid-step, and Julian peered at her in confusion, perplexed by the look of shock on her face. He followed her gaze, and then he too let his mouth drop open.

Standing at one end of the deck was Levianath, dressed in the rags he'd been rescued in, but looking better than he had in a while. The sleep and food had done him well. He stood straighter, his skin looked healthier, and his eyes burned a pure green. He must have found some way to replenish his fel energy recently.

However, at the other end of the deck stood an elf whose appearance gave Julian the impression of seeing double. A tall, slender, swarthy Blood Elf man stood facing Levianath, his bright green eyes practically burning in their intensity. He was dressed in dark leather pants, a pair of tall, buckled boots, and a blood-red tunic that hung loosely from his arms and showed a good amount of his chest. He wore a single silver chain around his neck, and his jet black hair was pulled back in a low tail. Various weapons hung from a decorative belt at his hips, as did a few from a one-shoulder harness he wore over his chest.

Julian stared. It _was_ Levianath, but at the same time, not quite. His ears stood taller, and his eyes were slightly more angled, more elf-like. The redhead stared as the not-quite Levianath took a single, liquid step forward, staring at Levianath.

"I am Captain Darkrunner. This is my ship," he said in a smooth, sly tone as his arms spread out to his sides, swords pointing outward, and Julian was shocked at how close his voice was to Levianath's. Were they brothers? They had to be.

The man then twirled one sword in his fingers until it was somehow gracefully brought into a direct point straight toward Levianath. He cocked his head, "And you," he said to Levianath, eyes flashing with a hint of curiosity, "are an impostor."

* * *

***ahem***

**We will see a certain familiar red-headed Rogue soon. **


	8. Honesty

**Whoa it's been so long, you guys. Two whole weeks long. I'm so sorry for the wait!**

**Responses: **

**Chelinka: High speed dragon chase? Now that sounds fun as hell xD I'll have to send that suggestion on to Levianath and his merry band. And pfft yeah, old gods are the root of all shenanigans... And also hot chocolate for the win. I'm so jealous.**

**NyteKnight: Okay so I looked up Sportive Tricks and WOW are they awesome and entertaining. Love it. And yes! Reece is totally a Mary Read. :D And I saw that you sort of figured out the troll/elf. ;)**

**Willowstar157: I read that review to my sister and she couldn't stop laughing. That was awesome. xD AND YOU'RE GONNA HATE THIS CLIFFHANGER, MAN.**

**Zarabethe: Julian and Reece, sittin' in a tree, K.I.S.S.I.S.S.I.P.P.I. ...Wait. (Okay I stole that joke from Andy Dwyer of Parks and Rec but shhhh.)**

**Psalty: Uh oh is right!**

**LadyRaftina: Oooh we'll get Reece's story and then some pretty darn soon. :D And Lev _does_ convince him... Mwahaha. **

* * *

Levianath fiddled with a string on his frayed tunic, paying little attention to anything. For the past thirty hours or so, he'd been dozing in and out as he rested in one of the spacious cells below deck. The first thing the _real_ Captain Darkrunner had done was arrest both men. At least they weren't chained, though, and they were immediately supplied with plenty food and water and bedding from a very curious and talkative Reece Black.

When the two had initially been thrown in the cells, Reece had immediately gotten to work with the questions. As much as Levianath tried to sit in silence, he could not however entirely ignore the chatter going on between the two nearby.

Reece had sat cross-legged on the floor with her hands holding the bars of Julian's cell, and she'd rested her forehead between two of the vertical iron poles, pelting Julian with constant questions of which he couldn't possibly have answers to. 'How come there are two identical captains?' was a popular one Levianath had heard about three times now, just with a slight variation of word choice. Even though the captain had arrested them both, Reece didn't seem to view either of them as a threat. Or, if she did, she didn't show it; her curiosity had won over.

Now, though, after a full day and night had passed (at least, according to Reece, it had), Levianath was about ready to take a pistol to his head. He'd noticed that in such a short time span, Reece had practically latched onto Julian. If she was bored, she came to the redheaded teen. If she was bored, she talked.

Apparently she was always bored.

If Levianath had been the target of the questions and the talk and the little games of I-spy and riddles, he would have snapped at the girl and told her to scram twenty-nine hours ago, Julian was on the contrary just as into it as Reece. Julian was also sitting on the floor across from the girl, answering every question she had earnestly and sharing speculations and ideas. Levianath had heard Julian say maybe the captain and he were brothers. Levianath could only pray that wasn't the case. His experiences with brothers had never been good, and being arrested by this so-called 'brother number three' would only solidify his hatred of the concept of family even further.

Levianath watched the two out of the corner of his eye and wondered to himself if Julian had discovered that Reece was a girl yet. Probably not, he thought, seeing as he himself only caught it because he's the most observant person he knows when it comes to people.

When the point of his insanity had already passed its all-time high, finally Levianath was brought up to the captain's cabin. Although he feared what would meet him there, anything was better than being in that cell beside the two who never quit talking.

While he was escorted up by a few pirate-y looking deckhands, he noticed that everyone stared at him. Some eyes were filled with confusion, others amusement, and some even with anger or hatred. Upon entering the cabin, the two holding him shoved him into a chair, but immediately, he caught a commanding voice that split through the air, the voice of the captain.

"Untie him," the captain ordered, and the two followed without hesitation.

Levianath stretched his arms out, and the captain came into view and stood across from him, the room's large wooden table being the only thing separating the two of them. Levianath finally stole a moment to really stare at the man, and even he had to admit it was frightening how similar they looked. It was obvious they had differences, but those differences were solely due to the fact that the captain was evidently full elf and Levianath was only half. They even looked like they could be the same age, if not for the weathered look to the captain's scars and scuffs. If nothing else, the scars can sometimes tell the story.

The troll-elf first mate appeared and sat down as well at the table. The captain pulled aside a chair, but instead of sitting on it, he hoisted one foot up, resting the base of his boot on the seat and leaning his elbow on his knee thoughtfully in a highly casual manner. He stared at Levianath for a good measure of time, expression unreadable, before finally reaching to his belt and retrieving a sharp, short knife. He immediately brought it to the wood of the table and began to carve little designs into it which Levianath couldn't see from his angle. However, now Levianath noticed the little carvings everywhere on the table and deduced that this wasn't an unusual activity for the man.

The captain spoke, not interrupting his own activity, which almost looked meditative.

"What is your name?"

"Levianath Darkrunner."

The captain paused, lifted his head, and squinted his fel green eyes. He repeated Levianath's name back to him in a question, and Levianath nodded. The captain thought for a second and just moved on to the next question, clearly not believing him. Levianath didn't blame him there; it was weird enough that they were identical, but they both had the same name? That was more than coincidence.

"How did you come to be on this ship?"

Levianath glanced at Fiammetta, having thought she'd have told the story already, but went ahead and spoke. "Well, funny story, actually," he explained. "The cargo ship I _was_ on exploded, and your guys rescued me."

"Exploded?" Darkrunner seemed more entertained than he should have been. Levianath nodded, and the captain suddenly took his knife and sank the tip of it into the table, abruptly appearing fed-up. "Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?" He tilted his head sternly.

Levianath shook his head after a moment of surprised hesitation. "Not at all, why?"

"So, you call yourself Darkrunner, and your first name just _happens_ to be an anagram of the name of my favorite ship, and you just _happen_ to look exactly like me, and you just so _happened_ to be on a ship that just _happened_ to have exploded?"

"Ah, mind explaining why that last part is so weird?" Levianath requested after a moment of shock. He could've sworn he then saw Fiammetta hide a smile.

A flicker of doubt crossed the captain's otherwise unreadable face. "You are unfamiliar with my unfortunate diminutive of 'Dynamite Darkrunner'?"

Levianath couldn't help but let an entertained smirk tug at his mouth, and only after he'd partially composed it did he allow himself to speak.

"Dyna-what?" His smile won out again, and he covered his mouth with his fist to hide it. "Do I want to know how you got that name?"

The captain ran a hand over his entire face, appearing withdrawn for a moment, and sighed. "We're getting off-track. Why do I always get off-track?" He glanced over at Fiammetta. "Is it just me?"

She sent him a mildly sympathetic smirk.

The captain looked back at Levianath. "So your name is Levianath Darkrunner, eh? Do please explain how you just happened to choose such a name."

"My mom gave it to me before she died, so I am told."

"You expect me to believe that you received that name at birth?" The captain finally sat down across from him, staring him down. "I don't believe you," he said after a prolonged silence. He looked at Fiammetta. "Fetch the truth salts for me, please?"

Fiammetta stood and walked across the room as Levianath tensed up.

"Truth salts?" Levianath asked. "Those are illegal."

"What about me gives you the idea that I follow any law?"**  
**

Levianath frowned. "I am telling you the truth. I'm twenty-four years old, born and raised on human turf, never encountered pirates or slavers in my life 'til last month."

The captain drummed his fingers on the table. "You said your mother gave you your name. What were your parents' names?"

"My mother's name was Josie Flint, as long as my human family are being truthful. And I never knew either of my fathers."

Darkrunner held a hand up when Fiammetta arrived with the salts, causing her to pause. Darkrunner kept his gaze on Levianath. "Your mother was Flintlock Josie?"

"Pardon?"

Darkrunner shared a look with Fiammetta. "Your mother is -was- Josie Flint?"

"So I'm told. You knew her?"

Levianath could've sworn he saw mischief flash across his doppelganger's face. "Something like that," the captain sighed. After a few seconds of thought, the captain seemed to make another connection. "This would explain your name, as well. My ship, when I knew Josie... it was called the Leviathan."

Levianath's brows fell low, and he frowned slightly. The coincidences here were almost painful.

However, Darkrunner then regarded Levianath with a skeptical stare, chin pointed downward and eyes cunning, intelligent, almost sly.

"But then again, this would be your perfect deception, your ideal scheme." His eyes trickled up to the first mate, and he then flicked two fingers in a 'come hither' motion. "Salts, please."

Levianath felt his face drain of blood; truth salts were not to be taken lightly. He couldn't imagine having his thoughts open for all to see; it was practically his foremost fear.

The captain took the vial from the Troll's hand, and then leaned forward across the table, studying Levianath closely.

"No harm in testing your ability to cater truth, am I wrong?"

Levianath swallowed and cleared his throat, stuttering slightly. "A-actually, yes, some harm."

One of the captain's long brows quirked up. "You have encountered this before?" he held up the vial.

"I have seen its effects on another." Levianath shook his head, eyeing the red-tinted vial. "You must know the salts don't just force their imbiber to speak; they force him to speak every thought in his head for what can be up to hours. Not to mention hallucinations. I don't exactly feel like experiencing that myself."

The captain stared at him for a moment, then wordlessly poured into two metal cups what appeared to be a dark crimson wine. He then took the vial, tipped it over one container, and allowed one single drop of the clear liquid to fall into the drink. He then handed it to Levianath.

"Drink," he ordered.

Levianath gritted his teeth, fingertips turning white against the metal cup. "And if I do not?"

In response the captain unsheathed one sword at his belt and held it out toward the unarmed half-elf in a blatant threat.

"In a choice between death or momentary delusion, which seems more practical? I supplied you with a single drop. Most men would be given at least five times that. I am being gracious. You may not even experience altered vision with such a small dose."

Levianath glanced over at the troll woman, who stood stoically at the corner of the table. She didn't make eye contact. He looked back at the captain, his gaze meeting the sharpened steel of the sword. He finally sighed.

"Delusion it is."

He reached out and took his drink, and very carefully, he took a small sip. He couldn't taste anything other than the wine, which in truth was more of a fruit juice than true wine. The captain smiled now, a genial expression despite the situation, and reached out for his own glass, lifting it up in a toast.

"To honesty," he said in a charming tone, and Levianath grimaced.

"To unnecessary psychotropic drug ingestion."

The captain's eyes flickered with humor as Levianath downed his glass easily, then let it clank against the tabletop as he set it down. He kept eye contact with his doppelganger, glaring intensely, though internally wondering how long it would take for the salts to activate.

The answer to that question didn't take long to follow. The captain leaned forward, resting his wrists against the edge of the table. His mouth formed a subtle smile.

"Now answer me truthfully: what is your real name?"

Levianath's mouth opened before he could stop it. "My name is Levianath Darkrunner."

Immediately, he snapped it shut once he regained a smidgen of control. He didn't care that he'd said his name, but he did care that he couldn't control that he did it. The captain's brows lifted subtly.

"And your mother?"

"Josie Flint, I think," he spoke unintentionally again. So, the salts were working on his tongue, and it was only a matter of time before his own mind fell into the trap as well. He felt panic start to set in.

"Truly?" the captain for the first time looked fazed, his face showing honest surprise. "You weren't lying?" It wasn't all that much of a question, more of an observation.

"No, I wasn't," Levianath's own ears could only partially pick up what he himself was saying now, and even those words sounded fuzzy and far away. He was slipping. He felt his mouth form more words. "This is rare. Truth is not at all my specialty."

The captain looked entertained. "And what _is_ your specialty?"

"Stealing, cheating," Levianath smirked darkly, allowing his thoughts to be heard. "Lying."

The captain studied him for a good ten quiet seconds, mouth finally forming a smile. "So you _are_ Josie Flint's boy..."

The first mate spoke up now, glancing at her captain. "You do know what this means, right?"

"Aye," the captain nodded. "Unless I'm wrong, which I rarely am..."

"-except for ten seconds ago," Levianath cut in.

Captain Darkrunner paused, amused eyes boring into Levianath's. "I do believe, Evenstar, you have just inadvertently brought me my heir."

Levianath immediately released a barking laugh. "Just my damned luck," he hissed harshly, falling back in his seat and letting out a sarcastic sneer even though he could barely think straight now. His deepest thoughts were beginning to flow from his mouth, and he couldn't do a thing about it. His eyes darkened in a glare. "You, sir, have just confirmed my motives behind hating anyone who falls under the category of 'family'. Figures that my first encounter with my own father involves him force-feeding me a truth serum."

The captain looked a bit surprised at Levianath's spiteful outburst, but otherwise didn't seem affected by it in the slightest.

A knock came at the door as an interruption of the exchange, and Fiammetta scooted her chair back, went to the door, and creaked it open. She shared a few quiet words with the person on the other side, and then closed it again. She looked at the captain.

"You were expecting someone at the Salty Sailor?"

Captain Darkrunner stood quickly. "Yes, yes I am." He sheathed his dagger, which had still been stuck in the table, and looked at Levianath while pausing for a second.

"Would you accompany me?" he requested after the pause. "I think my associate would be almost as entertained at your existence as I am."

Levianath just shrugged halfheartedly. "A tavern sounds like heaven." A month ago, he'd have grimaced at the idea of one, but over these past four weeks, his longing for that familiar buzz had become stronger and stronger.

He saw a subtle smirk tug at the man's lips, and the captain glanced over at Fiammetta beside him. "Apple didn't fall so far, did it?"

Fiammetta just lifted her brows in acknowledgement that he'd spoken, but didn't say anything. Levianath got the idea she wasn't one to speak more than what was absolutely necessary. In an odd way, it gave her more authority than it would if she filled silences with banter.

Levianath barely noticed that he was saying everything he thought, but then he heard the captain just laugh and walk out of the cabin.

Fiammetta stood, ignoring what Levianath had just unintentionally said about her, her expression remaining mostly stoic. Levianath couldn't help but admire her unconventional beauty. Her cool-colored skin was smooth as porcelain, despite the weathered look in her eyes, which were in their own way equally as unique.

He then realized he'd accidentally said that too, when her intense eyes suddenly bored into his. He thought for a second he almost detected a slight tinge of pink dusting her cheeks, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. She walked over to him and took his arm, pulled him up out of his chair, and wordlessly dragged him out the door. Everyone on deck froze what they were doing, all eyes falling on Levianath. Captain Darkrunner, calm as ever, held one hand up in a genial gesture, smiling warmly. The expression looked oddly genuine.

"My friends," he continued to smile, which caused many of the sailors to relax. "I'm pleased to see you all again. It's been far too long." He turned toward Levianath. "I know this looks strange to you, and you all deserve the truth-"

Levianath interrupted the captain. "He's my father," he said lightly, pointing a thumb toward the man. "Is it coincidence or irony? I don't know."

The captain, whose mouth was still open mid-sentence, closed his mouth and smirked for a second. "He is under the influence of truth salts." He said it almost like it was an excuse. "Anyway," he then hummed, "I will return soon enough. You all know your stations. I suggest you get to them."

The people just stared, blinking slowly between the two of them, and a few of them nodded.

"Aye, captain," said Reece Black, who was standing near the far doorway that led below deck. She'd leaned against the frame, crossing her arms.

This sparked a thought in Levianath's mind. "Oh, also," he said quietly. "You've imprisoned my friend. Mind if he sticks close to me instead? He's had enough time behind bars this past month. We both have. He doesn't deserve it."

Captain Darkrunner gave him a surprised look, and then turned his eyes to Reece. "Our other captive hasn't already been released?"

"You mean Julian?"

The captain nodded, and Reece shook her head.

"No, we never got orders to do so."

"Well then go on, bring him up here," the man laughed slightly. "See to it that he eats. He looked a bit thin. Then meet us in the Salty Sailor Tavern."

The cabin boy gave a small salute, and Levianath had little choice but to follow his new-found father.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

"He's his dad?"

Reece nodded in response to the question as Julian attempted to stand from his awkward sitting position where his back was against the wall. Julian's clumsiness was not to be taken lightly, especially when on a ship. Of course, he wasn't as clumsy as he was a year ago, but if ever there were a contest between him and a drunken monkey, he still might win.

After a labored scuffle, Julian finally stood with the help of Reece, who'd grabbed him by the wrist and put all of his body weight into pulling Julian up. Reece spoke up as Julian followed after him.

"That's what they said. And I believe it. Levianath spoke more on that deck than he has in the past few days. I think I heard the captain say they have him on truth salts right now."

"What're truth salts?" Julian asked plainly.

Reece shrugged. "They make you say everything you think. Any non-stream-of-consciousness thought that pops in your head, it comes out your mouth."

Julian visibly winced. "Elune's breath, he must _hate_ that! Poor guy! Why the hell would they do that to him?"

The cabin boy looked slightly sympathetic as well, his freckled face pouting slightly. "I dunno. Guess Captain didn't trust him."

Julian shook his head, grimacing at the thought of Levianath, the most mysterious and socially reserved person he knew, being forced to say everything in his head. What an invasion of privacy. The poor guy was probably in his own hell right now.

Reece stood there awkwardly for a moment, and Julian shook off the negativity he was feeling and sent the boy a smile. "So where are you taking me? Anywhere's better than this cell, I guess."

"To a tavern," Reece grinned his bright grin, a look that stretched wide across his freckled, dirt-smudged, sand-toned cheeks.

Julian's brows arched in amusement. "Why is it always taverns?"

Reece's cheeks dimpled. "Pirates, remember?"

With that, the cabin boy grabbed Julian's arm and tugged him along behind. When they left the ship, Julian's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the world around him. He hadn't been able to get a good look of Booty Bay the first time around, but now it was brilliant. The pirate-operated inlet town was thriving with fishermen, merchants, auctioneers, travelers, and everything in between. He was glad that Reece had a tight grip on his arm; otherwise, he'd be lost in a matter of seconds. He was directed along the docks and up ramps, taking in sights and smells. Most everything smelled like salt and sea and fresh-caught pungent seafood, and to be entirely honest, this place was a bit overwhelming. Everyone was shouting about their wares and advertising their shops, and from all directions Julian could see people of every race interacting both positively and negatively.

Before he knew it, it all disappeared, replaced by a dark room lit by only lamps and candles, no windows. Despite its lighting, it was busy as well, and quite loud. Reece went straight to a six-seated table beside the bar, where Julian finally saw Levianath. The cabin boy sat Julian down at a corner by Levianath, saving a spot for himself beside the first mate, who sat next to the captain himself, who was speaking to a strangely familiar-looking chocolate-haired blood elf man across from him.

Julian immediately gave his attention to Levianath, who was seemingly enjoying a drink in silence, not paying attention to the three talking at the other end of the small table. Reece's attention was alternatively given directly to what the captain was talking about to his contact.

"So how's everything-" Julian started to say, but the half-elf spoke up before he could finish.

"Have you caught on yet?" Levianath said in a calm question, eyes not moving from where he was staring intently at the table, and he took a short swig of his drink.

"Caught on? To what?"

Levianath finally tilted his head toward Reece, who was oblivious. "Have you caught on?"

Julian gave him a blank look.

Levianath smirked slightly. "Cabin boy's a girl."

Julian frowned and looked at Reece beside him for confirmation, but Reece hadn't been paying any attention to the quiet conversation between the two 'guests'.

"Nuh-uh," Julian shook his head, laughing. "How would you know?"

"She told me when she thought I was the captain. She's keeping it a secret. I wasn't going to tell you, either, but..." Levianath just shrugged. "Truth salts."

"You seem oddly at peace with the fact that you can't not talk," Julian said with slight concern, though his thoughts were also running a mile a minute about Reece. A girl? Really? The kid might be a bit... slightly feminine in some aspects, but _a girl_? He took a second to steal a glance at Reece, studying the profile of her face. She had slightly thinner lips than average, a button nose, rounded chin, constantly-smiling eyes, but nothing that actually shouted female. But at the same time, nothing shouted the alternative either. She was also skinny enough that her frame and shape could be taken as a boy as well. Plus she always wore baggy shirts. Her voice was sort of husky, maybe, but not truly deep. It all sort of clicked in Julian's mind then, a confirmation.

_Holy crap, Reece is a girl._

Levianath responded to what Julian had said moments earlier, bringing him back to the conversation. "I was mad, however I then wondered to myself, what's the point? My life has already been turned into a nightmare; this is just icing on the cake. Might as well just roll with it all now." He took another swig of his drink. The man looked miserable.

"Hey, we could probably just leave," Julian coaxed, glancing behind himself and lowering his voice. "We could make a run for it. Just take off. We're on dry land, and Stormwind is only about a day or two's worth of travel on foot from here."

Levianath just sent Julian an aloof stare. "I recall you saying some words very similar to those, and guess where they got us?" He leaned forward. "On a cargo ship, chained to walls and starving for _two weeks_." He sat back in his seat, holding his drink indifferently. "No use. None of it is. Doesn't matter."

"What if we just try asking them if we could go?"

"Won't work."

Julian's mouth twitched at a frown. "But this is different. These aren't slavers, Lev. This man is your dad."

"As if that means a damned thing."

"It does," Julian snapped back, surprised at himself for the attitude he was projecting. "He's your _father,_ and although I know you might've had some unpleasant experiences with family in the past, it sure as hell doesn't mean you should just give up on him before you've given him a chance."

"He blew the only chance he had by forcing these fucking drugs down my throat," the dark elf snarled back in a low tone, low enough not to draw the attention of the others at the table. He leaned in closer toward Julian, his intense eyes flashing with emotion. "I'm not like you, boy. I didn't grow up with a loving family and perfect parents and not a single gods-damned worry in my perfect, happy-go-lucky world. And maybe it's not entirely unfair of me to refrain from giving my trust to someone who hasn't given me one reason to."

Julian bristled. "My parents are far from perfect. My _life_ is far from perfect, for that matter. But I don't see why you have to be so negative about _everything_. The world isn't out to get you, Levianath."

"Yes it is," the man retorted bluntly, with far less enthusiasm. "It is."

In a convenient interruption, Julian heard the group beside them erupt into laughter, and he looked over at the person the captain was speaking with. The man looked familiar, almost weirdly so. Julian could have sworn he'd seen him before somewhere around the orchard, and the guy's liquid-like voice was familiar too. Dark brown medium-length hair, subtly-curled mustache and tuft of fur on his chin, and heavily-scarred. Not like your average blood elf, since his structure was much more rugged, with a sharper brow ridge and a squarer face.

He nudged Reece beside him. "Who's that?"

"Leader of a huge guild. Amaranth, I think they call him."

Julian thought a moment, and then shrugged. "Doesn't ring any bells." He looked at Reece for a second. Something unknown kept him from asking her about what Levianath had told him, but now that Levianath had pointed it out, it was so incredibly obvious that she was a girl. As much as she tried to hide it, the cat was out of the bag for Julian, and he now couldn't believe he'd thought anything other than what he knew now.

An identifiably-goblin voice cut through the proximity between Julian and Levianath, and both Julian and Reece glanced over in the half-elf's direction.

"Compliments of the lady at the bar," a goblin server had said, handing Levianath a full tankard of some sort of drink. Levianath's brows lifted, and all three of them turned to look at the one the goblin was pointing out.

Julian was a little surprised. The human woman at the bar was indeed quite attractive, if rough-looking, like she was definitely the type to spend her time in a town like this as a regular. She had long ebony hair that was tied halfway out of her face with a colorful bandanna, and her skin was bronzed to a caramel brown. Her eyes took up practically half of her face, big and flirtatious as they caught Levianath's and then looked forward again.

Julian looked back at Levianath to gauge his reaction but saw that Levianath had already left his seat, his new drink in hand, and was walking over to her.

Both Julian and Reece leaned back in their seats, observing what was going down with blatant interest. They were close enough to the bar that they could hear the conversation between the two.

Levianath spoke first when he reached the woman, giving her a charming smile as he leaned against the bar beside where she sat. "On a normal day, I would gladly play this little game of bantering and flirting and what have you, but to be entirely honest, that's all very boring and time-consuming, and I think we can both agree to just get to the good stuff. You give me your name, I'll give you mine."

The woman smiled equally as sly, if a bit caught off-guard by Levianath's bluntness. "Sage."

Levianath took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Levianath." His lips curled in a smirk. "And I think we both know what the ultimate goal of this encounter is, yes?" He was still holding her hand.

Julian nearly choked on his own air at Levianath's words, not only that he'd said them, but that they appeared to have worked.

A grin planted itself on the woman's face as she stood from her seat. "I like you, Levianath. You're honest. Come with me."

Her fingers linked into Levianath's, and she tugged him to follow her through the bar and up a flight of stairs, out of sight.

Julian, jaw now having dropped open, turned to look at Reece, who was laughing uncontrollably.

"Wait, what the hell just happened?" Julian exploded after a second, eyes still wide in shock of what he'd just witnessed. "Does that actually work on girls?!"

Reece, still laughing, nodded. "Apparently!"

Julian squinted his eyes. "We should test this."

The girl looked around the bar. Finally, she pointed. "There's one."

Julian followed her direction, noticing that she'd actually chosen well enough. A youthful-looking troll girl with wild pink hair appeared to have just arrived and sat down at the bar, sort of close to where Sage had sat. Julian stood, smirking, knowing it wouldn't actually work, and approached her.

"So," he said, trying to copy how Levianath had done his move and leaning against the bar, smiling at the troll in a way that he hoped looked 'charming'. He continued, "I'd love to sit here and chat and uh, banter and flirt, but I say let's just skip all the boring stuff. I think we both know what the real goal is here."

He couldn't help but wink for good measure before glancing back at Reece, who was doubled over in her chair, curled up in silent laughter. Her nose was wrinkled with her laughter, and dimples indented her freckled cheeks. He bit back a laugh and looked back at the woman, smiling at her happily, awaiting an answer which he was entirely positive could be a slap in the face.

The troll woman stared at him for a second, and her red eyes gave him a once-over. To his surprise, the corners of her mouth formed a smirk.

"Ya, okay," she said, her voice musical and young, but still sort of raspy like trolls' voices naturally were. In a weird way, she suddenly reminded Julian of Lily. She bit her lower lip. "Ya def'nitely cute enough."

She reached up, probably to touch his face, and suddenly he panicked, flinching away.

"Er, on second thought-!" he cringed back, stepping backward once and stumbling. "I just, ah, I think I just saw a very old friend walk through that door-" he pointed his hand in the wrong direction, opposite the actual door, and kept stuttering. "Sorry, you are very pretty, but I just-"

She began to laugh, and she stood from her seat. She was nearly as tall as he was, the first full troll he'd ever stood face-to-face with. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek spontaneously, her tusks slightly poking him as well, and shook her head. She turned and walked away, still laughing, and Julian stumbled back to Reece.

He ran a hand through his hair as he sat down beside her dumbfounded, and she was still laughing. He just now noticed how her laugh sort of chimed, how it was a pleasant sound. Then again, Julian was drawn to all laughter.

He finally found his voice. "How in the world did that _work_? It never works at home!"

"At home?" Reece, still laughing, elbowed him in the side playfully. "Maybe you've got more game than you thought, songbird."

Julian snickered at her playful attack and shoved her back, and she reacted immediately by wrestling against him, trying to shove him off his seat.

"HEY!" Julian laughed out loud now, shoving her back, and she toppled backward against the first mate, who reacted abruptly by tensing up and sending a scathing glare at Reece.

Reece didn't care. She launched forward and caught Julian entirely off his seat, and the two fell to the ground. Julian grappled against her, both laughing all the while, and they didn't realize as they'd drawn the eyes of everyone who'd been sitting at their table.

Reece finally managed to pin Julian in a strange choke hold, and Captain Darkrunner from the table let out a sportive cheer. At the same time, the door of the tavern swung open at the far end, letting in daylight. Two forms darkened the frame significantly, and Julian tried his best to catch sight of who it was but couldn't due to the nature of how his head was held at an odd angle.

Before Julian could even process a single thought, he felt Reece's weight lift from him entirely, at the same time as the table beside them toppled over, hitting the ground in a huge crash as dishes flew everywhere. Julian vaguely saw someone attack Fiammetta as the same time as he saw the form of a woman suddenly throw Captain Darkrunner to his back after a few clashes of his sword against her daggers.

Julian sat up abruptly, heart pumping as he finally realized what'd happened. His eyes fell on the captain, who was being held down by a woman with vibrant red hair, as red as his own.

"Paws off my son, scum," he heard his mother's intimidating voice rip in a snarl. "You've made a huge mistake."

* * *

**So... ****We got some action finally!**

**...Or at least, Levianath did. BWHAHAHGHGHGHaghahaha. *sits in corner shamefully***

**But give him a break, the poor guy had such a bad day. ****And in reality we don't _actually_ know what happened there. Mwahahah. **


	9. Discord

**Yay! 'Nother update! Car troubles, so I'm stuck at my sister's house instead of going to school. I ain't complaining..**

**Responses:**

**Katerika: Thank you so much! :) I'm so glad you like my stories! And ooooh I should check them out sometime. I always love a new story.**

**Chelinka: Yes! You've got the right idea! Mwahaha! And yes. Procrastination is my forte.**

**Noriana26: Ahh! I didn't see that review til now. And my kik isn't showing any messages! What the heeeeck?**

**Nyteknight: Oooh yeah, Raphael may be on decent terms with the big two, but he's definitely not confident in their trust enough to truly intervene.. xD**

**Willowstar: HAH! Oh yeah, Julian's luck keeps turning for the worst.. He really can't catch a break, not even in this chapter.**

**Psalty: I know right?!**

**Zarabethe: Ahaha yes, I was giggling when I wrote that part. Julian is adorable. xD And definitely meant to be with Reece.. Mwahaha. **

**Toxicstar9: Let the ship sail indeed, no pun intended! **

**LadyRaftina: Yes! Julian, do what you do best! What would that be...? Talking? hahhaha.**

**Kintaraheart: LET'S MOVE ALL YOUR CHARACTERS INTO THIS ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. MMMYESSS. They can all be buddies. **

**Mythique: Ahhh! I am so behind on everything! I'm thinking this weekend is my catch-up-on-everyone's-stories weekend, since it's my first one without 3 days worth of plans. :D :D And ahahah oh man I would pay big bucks to see that with Rommath and Braelyn...**

* * *

Until the barely-muffled sound of breaking glass broke out downstairs, Levianath had actually been enjoying himself.

Minutes earlier, the sounds of the tavern had been barely diluted even with a flight of stairs to separate Levianath from the floor below, but that was no issue for him. If anything, it helped him; the sounds kept his thoughts scattered, which kept him from speaking them out loud.

And, of course, he couldn't speak even if he tried right now. His lips were preoccupied with those of the woman who had so graciously saved him from his greatest fear.

They hadn't even reached the top step before Sage caught him up against the stair railing and curled her fingers into his sable locks as her mouth crashed onto his own, and from there, no words escaped his tongue. This was exactly what he needed. Not just because he wasn't talking, though. He'd needed _this_. The choice to do what he wanted on a whim, to not be controlled by other people or under the influence of will-stripping drugs. If he wanted to go off on his own with a woman he just met, then spirits be damned, that's what he was going to do.

He wasn't keeping track of the minutes, but the two had certainly taken their time meandering along toward wherever Sage had rented out her room.

So, when a loud commotion started up downstairs and the sounds of laughter and story sharing transformed into a violent crash, followed by a momentary hush and then a burst of confused shouting, Levianath had only just reached Sage's door.

Sage pulled away first, peering around Levianath's shoulder toward the stairwell at the end of the hall.

"What was that?" she asked breathlessly.

Levianath immediately tilted his head down and caught her lips again, desperately wishing not to talk and trying his hardest to ignore the sounds downstairs. Sage gave in, and Levianath, not breaking the kiss, took her key from her hand and fumbled at the doorknob for a few seconds. The door eased open slowly to a dark room, apparently without any windows.

The volume downstairs grew louder with the introduction of voices of angry Goblins. Levianath blocked it out as best as he could; probably a stupid bar fight, seeing as this was a pirate cove and a home of tavern brawls. When the brawls got too intense, the guards would fix the issue.

But, then, one sound echoed through the building in a thunderous boom: a roar, louder and more frightening than anything Levianath had heard in his life. He wrenched himself from the prolonged kiss, craning his head back toward the stairs, eyes slightly widened and jaw tense.

"What the hell was that?" this time it was his turn to ask the question, and Sage's to interrupt him. She tugged him toward the room.

"It's probably just a shapeshifter joining in a bar fight. Don't worry about it. The Bruisers here will take care of everything. We'll be fine in this room." She brought his face down to hers. She smelled like some sort of artificial fragrance that made Levianath's nose burn, almost like a spice.

Levianath gave in for a moment before feeling a tug of worry and guilt, and he pulled away again, resting one hand against the wall beside her head and glancing over his shoulder.

"Julian's down there," he murmured so quiet that Sage couldn't hear it correctly.

"What?"

"I have to go," Levianath looked back at her. "I'm sorry."

He sort of felt bad for leaving her behind as he jogged toward the stairs, but all of that was lost when he'd made it halfway down and finally caught sight of the tavern. He paused mid-stair, hand freezing on the railing, eyes widening as he took in the sight.

The first thing he saw was a giant cat, fur whiter than snow, standing out like a sore thumb in the dusty tavern. It looked like no Druid he'd ever seen, so if not for the obvious elven glow of its eyes, Levianath would have pegged it as a wild animal.

The massive feline seemed to be circling around someone defensively, or rather, a few people. He caught sight of the bright red tint of Julian's hair behind the animal, and then realized that it belonged to two different people. He recognized the woman standing next to Julian: the boy's mother, Norivana. She was slightly lowered in her stance, blades drawn, eyes burning with an intense silver as they shifted intelligently between everyone in the room.

This might mean, Levianath thought as he continued to stand there on the stairs conveniently out of sight, that the giant white lynx-looking cat standing between the two redheads and essentially the rest of the bar could very easily be Julian's father.

So the famous parents had come to save the day, finally.

He didn't want to get involved. Levianath considered going back upstairs, honestly, but then ended up deciding to watch what happened next, his curiosity winning over his subtle desire to return to Sage. Apparently Julian wasn't in direct danger, so Levianath didn't feel like he needed to intervene. He sat silently and inconspicuously on the stairs, leaning against the wall and avoiding direct light as he watched what was going down. He could see the Captain, the troll first mate, and Reece all standing over near where they'd initially had a table. The table was now on its side. They all three seemed to be focusing on the same thing, and Levianath followed their stares.

He realized what it was that the bright white Silverpaw Druid was defending his family from. It wasn't the pirates. A handful of Booty Bay's Goblin Bruisers had come in to dissipate the obvious feud between Julian's family and the pirates he'd arrived here with. It was clear that the bruisers were attempting to throw the offenders (those being Julian's parents) out, but every time any of them got close, the gargantuan white cat would lunge forward and roar and snap his jaws threateningly.

Levianath noticed the elf he'd been shortly introduced to, Raphael Amaranth, standing in the middle, speaking to Captain Darkrunner and obviously trying to pacify the situation. Darkrunner had his hand on his sword and was shooting a glare in Norivana's direction, but wasn't acting on his hostility.

Any of the other inn patrons had provided a large space in the open area, plastering themselves near walls and corners to stay out of the line of fire, most of them keeping their eyes on the giant angry Druid. Levianath was honestly unsure of the direction that this conflict might go, but then right in front of his eyes he saw another figure come into view: a black Druid, much like the white one but slightly smaller, launched itself straight into the pile of Goblin Bruisers, attacking the largest guard and knocking him down entirely. The Goblin was disarmed before he knew it, and suddenly everything was thrown into mayhem. More guards swarmed into the tavern, and Levianath watched with a mixture between concern and amusement as they all practically tossed every offending bar patron out the door, effectively clearing it of any fighting at all.

He noticed that although the Druids and Norivana were visibly violent, they weren't going to the extent of killing or actually injuring anyone, and that was where the guards had gotten the upper hand and thrown them out successfully.

The other people in the bar almost immediately went back to normal, a few of the tavern workers standing tables back up and promptly sweeping up the floors in a matter of seconds. Chatter started right back up again, and Levianath made his way across the bar to the exit. He'd just reached the door when he heard an angry, deep Goblin voice practically shouting.

"And all of you," the Goblin gave a pause for further effect, probably glaring, "gotta get your sorry asses outta this town by nighttime. Not one more speck of fighting, or you'll be suffering consequences that I really don't feel like raking out. I don't wanna go to bed with blood on my hands tonight. Am I clear?"

Someone must have acknowledged the Goblin's words, because as Levianath walked out of the door, the guards were all already returning to their various posts around the area. Levianath was pretty sure that no one even noticed him arriving, and he saw the black Druid revert into his elf form and speak up first.

He turned to the redheaded woman, who had removed her hood. "Norivana, I think that's our cue to get out of here."

Levianath saw her send a burning glare toward Captain Darkrunner. "Not until he answers for what he's done." She took a step forward, and Raphael and Julian both sort of jumped in.

Julian interrupted. "It wasn't him, mom. The pirates saved us, actually."

"It's all a misunderstanding," Raphael said calmly.

Norivana's eyes narrowed. "So what I saw when I came in..?"

Julian grinned at Reece. "That was play-fighting. I started it."

Norivana glanced between the two, now slightly interested, but the black-haired Druid spoke again, his eyes intense. "Either way, we got what we came for," he reached out and pulled Julian into a brotherly hug, almost rough in his handling. "So let's leave."

"Don't forget Levianath," Julian spoke up, tugging himself away from the man's hug and going to Levianath's side. For the first time, everyone else acknowledged his presence.

The Captain was next to cut in. "Actually, I'd really like to keep him here with us."

The black-haired Druid nodded in agreement, surprisingly. "We don't need someone like him coming back with us to Stormwind."

"Sarion," Julian scolded the man. "Get over it. He hasn't done anything wrong."

"He's dangerous," Sarion retorted in a calm but somehow aggressively-assertive tone. "He's not coming."

Levianath noticed that his truth serum was still active but not as strong as before, and he frowned as he spoke. "I think I should have a say in the matter."

"You and your magic have no place among us," Sarion snapped roughly. "Case closed."

Levianath's interest began to pique as Julian became visibly upset. This rarely happened ever with the boy.

"Sarion!" Julian barked. "If not for him, I'd be rotting in a shallow, unmarked grave, or at the bottom of an ocean. I think he has more than proven his worth. Give him a chance."

"Or," Captain Darkrunner cut in again, "Perhaps he could stay with me and my crew."

Sarion growled. "And you," the man hissed, taking a step toward the Captain, and immediately Fiammetta stepped forward defensively as Sarion continued to talk. "Why was Julian not given the option to return home, if he was as free as you all claim? Give us one reason not to strike you down."

The troll first mate put a hand to the hilt of her sword. "I would be careful with a threat like that, beast."

Raphael tensed up, about to throw himself in the middle again to intervene, hands going to the hilts of his daggers as well.

Levianath startled as a sudden growl ripped through the air, which suddenly transformed into a deep, booming voice.

"Enough." Lucian Silverpaw erupted as he shifted into full standing height for the first time, fully decked out in armor and standing in a threatening pose. "You all heard the guards. We need to leave." He stepped a single step toward Captain Darkrunner, and even the troll flinched when Lucian lifted a single finger to point at Darkrunner, "Take us to your ship."

Unquestioningly, they did what the persuasively-large man ordered.

Levianath trailed behind the group, and he noticed that Raphael was speaking to Lucian as if they knew each other. Perhaps they did? That would be taking irony to the next level. Levianath still wasn't sure how he felt about the Blood Elf. He seemed too shifty, but then again, Levianath was not one to complain about people being untruthful.

Raphael began to explain what he could about Julian's predicament, but was silenced by Lucian, who asked Julian to instead tell his story firsthand. As they all walked through town, Julian gladly and easily proceeded to recount every single thing that had happened since leaving the orchard, so precise in his story that he'd explained the type of clothing he had to wear at the labor camps and the thoughts that'd run through his head when he'd been on the cargo slave ship. Levianath, although he appreciated Julian's praise of him on multiple parts of his story, was about ready to muzzle the boy. He was a storyteller in and out, and obviously liked to draw out the tales.

By the time they'd all reached the end of the dock where the ship was currently anchored, Julian was on the topic of when the cargo ship had exploded.

"I have no idea what it was that freed me, but it looked like a big huge blurry black blob with green eyes. I couldn't see very well, though, because of how tired and hungry and sick I was. I'm pretty sure it was a demon, though. I could feel its anger. It broke my chains and put me on a raft made of broken wood from the ship, and then suddenly it exploded in all different directions. The ship did, that is. Not the demon," he snickered to himself. "I was worried Levianath had been caught in the blast, but after some time he somehow ended up on the raft beside me. I think I am missing time or something..."

"A demon exploded the entire ship?" Lucian's voice was uncertain.

"It was mine," Levianath spoke up. He wouldn't have, if not for the truth salts, however he could at least sense them fading. He caught a glare from Sarion, but kept talking. "I controlled it. Forced it to save Julian, since I couldn't. The ship was going down, and the voidwalker was my last hope."

Julian smiled and nodded. "I suspected it was yours."

"So what next?" Lucian asked as the plank was lowered to let them all board the ship.

Julian shrugged. "I don't exactly remember. I was pulled out of the water, I think... It was Reece, actually!" he pointed at Reece, and she grinned.

"It wasn't me who pulled you out, but I was there on deck. You were delirious, and we thought Levianath was the captain, for obvious reasons." She gestured between Levianath and Captain Darkrunner playfully.

Julian nodded. "I sort of remember that part. You guys just pulled him into that cabin," he pointed at the captain's quarters, "and left me out here with the sailors."

Reece began to snicker. "And you started singing."

Julian grinned. "Voice of an angel, am I right?"

"The rest of us joined in just so we wouldn't have to hear your voice," she teased.

Lucian interrupted the two's exchange. "So these sailors are the ones who _saved_ you, then?"

Julian nodded. "Saved our lives. We'd have been sold in Tanaris by now."

Lucian shared a look with his wife, a silent exchange, and then turned to the captain. "I think we've started out on the wrong foot."

"I agree." Captain Darkrunner smiled, which gave Levianath the feeling of looking into a mirror, and nodded his head once. He walked to the dooors of his large cabin and opened them up. "Now... Why don't we share a rational discussion about what comes next?"

* * *

The discussion that followed provided the revelations that, first of all, Raphael knew Julian's parents and Sarion quite well; and secondly, Raphael had met with Captain Darkrunner because the captain had been trying to pinpoint the locations of Saltsprocket labor camps set up in Stranglethorn Vale and Raphael knew where they all were. And, thirdly, now that Norivana, Lucian, and Sarion all knew that Lily was most likely taken to one of them, they'd already begun to come up with a plan to take out each camp that Raphael had circled on the map and find Lily in the process.

The captain seemed especially pleased, because it turned out that the time he'd spent away from his ship had been time put into finding those camps and sabotaging the Saltsprocket Goblins' shipment schedules. Apparently there'd been a feud between Darkrunner's people, the Bloodmoon Raiders, and the Saltsprocket mining camps for ages, and Darkrunner was just on the verge of finally gaining an upper hand.

And, now that he had locations of every camp on the map, thanks to Raphael, as well as manpower from the three who'd just volunteered to help, the captain was more than ready to take them on. Raphael had also offered the assisntance of some of his guild members, which apparently he had a very large and powerful guild, because Darkrunner was more than pleased.

"The sooner we go, the better," the captain announced, and the others agreed.

Lucian looked at Julian. "We can take you home first, if you want to."

Julian shook his head almost immediately, glancing over at Reece. "I really don't mind staying here instead," he smirked.

Norivana stood with a nod. "Julian, you'll be safe on this ship. We're going to get Lily back, I promise. This won't take more than a month, I'm guessing."

Julian nodded and stood up too, and he wrapped his arms around his mother in a tight hug. Levianath watched for a moment, feeling a strange twinge of pain originating in his heart, and realized after a moment it was probably envy. He took a moment to rejoice that his truth serum had faded entirely and that he was no longer broadcasting his feelings, feelings which even he didn't fully understand and certainly didn't appreciate.

Lucian hugged his son as well, and then Sarion did too before preparing to leave with the others.

Darkrunner put the first mate in charge of the ship, and he and the others gathered up some resources and re-stocked their bags with basically every necessity one would need when going on sabotage missions. They definitely weren't wasting any time, and once ready, it was only a flurry of goodbyes and promises before everyone but Reece, Fiammetta, Julian, and Levianath had left the room.

Fiammetta ordered that Reece take Julian to the lower deck quarters and find him a spot to stay, and Reece followed the woman's orders diligently, leaving just the first mate and Levianath in the captain's cabin.

The first mate regarded him with a neutral stare. "Captain told me you are to stay in his cabin. I personally do not understand why he is so quick to trust you, but it's not my job to question him. Your role here will be to stay in this cabin, keep your mouth shut, don't mess anything up in this room, and don't speak to the sailors. You will be given plenty of food and drink whenever you need it, but I do insist that you refrain from causing any trouble, and most of all, stay out of my way. Understand?"

Levianath just sniffed absently. "Yep. Light a fire in the room. Got it."

She bristled and glared disapprovingly at him, and he just smirked and shrugged, then pressed his palms together and let his fingertips light up in fel flame, messing with her. She was far too bossy for her own good.

A nerve in her jaw pulsed, and she simply picked up a half-filled glass of water and poured it on his hands, but since his flame was magic, it didn't douse.

Levianath sent her a disappointed look. "Everyone knows fel flame doesn't drown. You've just made a mess in the captain's cabin, First Mate. Better hop to it." He snapped his wet, flaming fingers tauntingly.

She glared at him. "This is your room, now. You can keep it clean."

Levianath glanced down at the water pooled on the floor. "Well, okay," he shrugged hesitantly, and willed the fel flame from his fingers to spread all the way down to the water, lighting it all up.

The first mate jumped back, even though Levianath wouldn't let the flame actually hurt her. He was simply annoyed with her ordering him around; it was the last thing he needed.

Her voice was sharp. "What the hell?"

"I'm cleaning it," he reasoned. "Just...not in a traditional sense. Full cleanse, if you will."

She fumed at him, eyes flicking down to the fire at Levianath's feet. Levianath sent her a smirk and stood up from where he'd been sitting, and he walked out of the room. He heard her follow after him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him. He'd kept the fire burning even upon leaving, even though he knew that she most likely knew it wasn't a real threat, not when he was controlling it like he was. He was doing all of this solely out of spite, and she knew it, but she was feeding into it perfectly. Levianath couldn't help but mess with someone when he thought they took things too seriously.

He turned and gave her a dull look. "Uh, well, my room is on fire, so I'd rather not be in it."

A few of the sailors glanced over at him at his words, and Fiammetta stood straight, eyes stern.

"Put it out, and return to your room."

He laughed humorlessly. "You think that you can order me around? I have a demon at my fingertips that can explode ships. You know nothing of control, but I could always show you."

Her voice began to rise as her vivid eyes bored into his. "I'd like to see you make a pathetic attempt at turning that threat into a reality."

"Truly?" Levianath retorted sharply, hands erupting in energy, and he took a step toward the troll, his expression darkening. "You would? You'd like to see me blow up your ship? Because I can, and I will, if you dare tell me what to do. I will _not_ be controlled."

He saw her hand go to her weapon. "Go," she pointed toward the cabin. "Now."

He simply cocked his head at her tauntingly.

"Get in that room!" she barked at him.

"I can't!" He retorted back loudly, bluntly, almost in a sarcastic tone, "That room is on fire."

She looked back at the room, only to see that Levianath really had let it grow into a full-blown inferno. She whipped to face him again, marching toward him.

"PUT IT OUT," she ordered angrily, drawing her sword and pointing it at him.

He let his magic erupt all the way up to his elbows, standing his ground. The two were only about five feet from one another, and Levianath glared at her intensely. "Make me."

A deafening crack from far overhead in the ship's topmasts caused both Levianath and Fiammetta to flinch and jump backward away from each other instinctively, eyes turning upward just in time to catch sight of two people toppling off of the far end of the highest sail, the mast of which had somehow cracked. Levianath's heart lurched into his throat; Julian and Reece were so high up that if they hit the deck from that distance, they could be seriously injured, or even worse.

He saw Julian reach out and grab Reece immediately upon falling off the edge, his large hand wrapping around her forearm and holding tight just as a now-loose rope from the falling sail whipped around and caught him by the ankle. The two began to plummet, but then the rope around Julian's ankle tugged tight, and instead of falling downward, they began to fall in a long arc, like a pendulum. Levianath heard Julian let out a sharp cry of pain and deduced that it must've been his ankle on the drop.

Both of them yelping as they fell, they swung down close to the deck, directly in between Levianath and Fiammetta, before rising almost all the way back up on the other side. The rope came into contact with a horizontal beam, and Levianath stared in disbelief as both Julian and Reece twisted once around the beam and were then hanging there, immobile; Julian hung by his ankle and held desperately onto Reece. The two were still far too high for safety, and if Julian dropped the girl, her predicament could be the same as before.

"Hold on!" Levianath shouted, immediately forgetting everything between him and the first mate, at the same time as Fiammetta threw herself onto the rigging and began to climb. Levianath ran back into the captain's cabin, which he'd inadvertently doused when his attention had been averted to Julian. He grabbed a large linen blanket off of the bed and ran back out, beckoning for a handful of the dockworkers to help him. They immediately caught on to what he was doing, and all took hold of different sides of the blanket until it was stretched out like a makeshift trampoline. They all stood underneath where the two were hanging, stretching out the blanket.

Levianath watched as Fiammetta reached where the two were perilously tied to the beam, and she attempted to pull them up by the rope, but realized they were too heavy.

"I'm going to cut the rope!" she shouted, and Levianath nodded eagerly.

"We're ready," he shouted back up. "Julian, Reece, when you fall, try to land horizontally."

"Hold on!" Julian called out before Fiammetta had cut the rope. His voice was gritted in pain. "Let me drop Reece first."

Levianath gripped the blanket tighter as Julian, after a moment, let go of the girl. Reece fell lightly, hitting the taut blanket hard and bouncing once before scrambling off into the welcoming arms of a few more sailors who'd been observing.

"Alright, are you ready?" Fiammetta asked Julian, and he gave her the thumbs up. Levianath could see from here the boy's expression and noted that Julian looked like he was doing everything he could to keep his composure. His sun-freckled face was red because he was upside down, and his ankle looked to be at an odd angle where it'd been probably dislocated by the rope.

Levianath readied himself for the boy's fall. Reece had been different; she probably weighed only three quarters what Julian weighed, and Julian was facing downward. This was worrisome; if he couldn't pull himself from a vertical position, he could be irreversibly injured from this.

"Ready!" Levianath shouted up, and everyone holding the blanket held it even tighter.

Fiammetta cut the rope.

Julian dropped like dead weight, but thankfully in the few seconds that he did fall, he curled his head and shoulders inward. His upper back hit the blanket, which at least slowed his fall, but his feet received the worst whiplash, and they hit last and hardest. He still hit the deck fairly hard instead of bouncing as his impact pulled the dockworkers inward and allowed the blanket to droop to the floor.

Julian let out a sharp yelp and then turned it into a broken groan, holding his injured foot still. He brought himself up on his elbows, looking down at his foot and noting that it was at an unnatural angle. Reece immediately knelt down beside him, looking extremely apologetic but at the same time laughing.

She grabbed the sides of his face, forcing him to look away from his injury.

"Ho-oly shit," she laughed incredulously, "we made it!"

Julian began to snicker, still wincing at the pain a little. "Yeah, I guess we did."

"That was terrifying," she still giggled through her words, shaking her head a little, still keeping Julian from looking at his foot. Levianath lifted a brow. The girl was smarter than he gave her credit for; she was distracting him so that the others could take care of Julian's foot.

Julian laughed and said something unimportant, and Levianath jumped into action just as Fiammetta had climbed back down onto the deck. He knelt down by Julian's foot as Reece kept speaking to the boy, and he took out a knife and cut the rope from the boy's ankle. It'd burned angry lines into his skin, but that wasn't the bad part. Julian's ankle was swelling and jutting out in a cringe-worthy direction.

Fiammetta knelt down beside Levianath, and the two exchanged concerned glances before focusing on Julian's ankle. Fiammetta finally spoke.

"You hold onto his shin; I'm going to re-set it."

Levianath did as she'd told, holding onto Julian's leg tightly. He felt Julian wince at the pressure, but Reece's voice picked up a little louder in response, keeping him occupied. Fiammetta carefully took Julian's foot with two hands, and she sent Levianath a short nod to say 'hold on tight'.

She pulled on the disconnected joint hard, and it slid itself back into place. Levianath had felt it pop and cringed when Julian let out a sharp, painful howl before it suddenly cut off. Levianath glanced back at Julian to see that Reece had bent over him and covered his mouth with her hand and had placed her forehead against his, her other hand holding the back of his head. Julian's eyes were scrunched shut in pain, but he'd relaxed significantly, and Levianath blinked at the sight; the action was oddly tender-looking, not to mention he'd felt an odd surge of magic come from Julian when Reece had done that. Had she pacified him somehow? It'd be interesting to investigate this.

From what Levianath gathered, no one on the ship could heal other than Julian himself, and when Reece finally let go of him, the boy was asleep. It _must_ have been a spell.

Reece sat back on her feet and glanced at Levianath.

"I'll take care of him. It's my fault he was up there in the first place."

Fiammetta spoke up. Her voice was the least intense that Levianath had ever heard it. "Good idea. You can take care of him down below deck; from this point on, the two of you are grounded. No coming above deck unless I say, okay? That was reckless of both of you to be climbing so high."

Reece nodded. "I understand." She stood and enlisted the help of a few sailors to help her carry the boy below deck.

Levianath got to his feet and let out a breath, running one hand through his dark hair. The redhead didn't catch a break these days, Levianath mused. One thing after another, just when things started to look up for him. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, though. Julian could be cared for below deck and out of danger, out of trouble.

He glanced over at Fiammetta, and she returned his look and sighed. She walked past him and disappeared downstairs, and he, with nothing else to do, began to walk back to the cabin. He reached the door, and then heard Fiammetta's voice again.

"Hold that door, would you?"

He turned back and saw her approaching with a bottle of whisky and two glasses. He smirked and stepped back, holding it open, and let her in.


	10. Secrets

**Okay, so this chapter involves a lot of discussion. It was going to be a lot shorter and would've been more directed around further plot points, but I got carried away. :P**

**Responses: **

**Zarabethe: Yes! Julian, figure out her secret! Pronto! :D **

**Noriana26: Juleece sounds like a redneck name. I love it..**

**Chelinka: Yes! Sarion, chill out! Hahah. He will by the end, hopefully.. And oooh, good luck on midterms, unless they're already over, in which I congratulate you upon finishing them!**

**Mythique: Oh, Julian and Reece have yet to complete their full damage to the ship.. This is only the beginning.. Haha! And OMG. HOW DO YOU WRITE SO FAST? I have so much to catch up on, and it's killing me! I need more Braelyn adventures stat! Go away, homework and responsibilities! Fie fie!**

**Willowstar: This one doesn't have a cliffhanger either! :D I'm glad you appreciated that. I almost stopped it with her cutting the rope, like you mentioned. Almost. Mwaahhaha. And by all means, Shakespeare away!**

**ToxicStar: Oooh, we're saving that moment for when it's almost unbearable. ;)**

**Nyteknight: Oh yeah, the sheer number of times I've gotten myself killed in Booty Bay is appalling.. Hehh..**

**Jysshio: Sassy Levianath to save the day! :D And yes, those troublemakers are going to wreak total havoc on the ship soon..**

**LadyRaftina: Yes! Levianath, go for dat attitude. I'm rooting for you, man. xD **

**Katerika: Ooh, yeah, I'm including a Lily POV chapter either in the next one or the following! It'll either clear up a lot of questions or prompt even more. Maybe both. ;D**

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

"That was quick thinking out there," the troll hummed as she poured refills for them both.

Levianath shrugged, taking the glass as she handed it to him, and downed half of it right off the bat. "And quick climbing on your part," he said, wiping his chin with his forearm.

"They're like full-grown toddlers," she said fondly, though her expression retained that same intense look. "Although I am glad that Reece has someone to connect with."

"The two are surprisingly compatible," Levianath nodded. "Reece has her enthusiasm and Julian has his optimism."

Fiammetta sent him a surprised look. "You know she's a girl?"

"She informed me of it when she thought I was her captain."

Fiammetta sighed and nodded. "I see." She stared at Levianath, her expression unreadable.

He spoke up after a couple of quiet seconds, his thumb tracing the rim of his glass as he watched her. "Can I ask you something?"

She finished off her drink and set it on the table. "Ask away." She seemed far more complacent now than he'd ever seen her before.

"Normally I don't care to ask people this question, because I usually already know the answer. But what is it you hold against me? What have I done that you despise so much about me?"

She just lifted her brows. "What gave you the impression that I dislike you?"

He squinted his fel eyes. "We could start with your general sense of hostility toward everything I do or say."

A moment of silence passed, and finally the woman took in a slow breath.

"You're reckless," she stated plainly, leaning back in her seat and staring at him thoughtfully. "Young, rash, uncontrolled. You despise authority and your utmost goal is to cause chaos. People who should have loved you have likely wronged you at some point in your life, which has left you skeptical and cynical. You are dangerous, because you are unpredictable, and most of all, your focus is solely directed upon your own wants and needs, even if that is detrimental to others around you."

Levianath lifted his brows. "You got all of that out of...what?"

"Out of you being exactly like your father."

"How would you know who I am or how I act? We've barely ever spoken."

"Every single thing I have seen you do or say has been spot-on. You _are_ Wraith Darkrunner."

Wraith? That was his father's first name? Good to know. Levianath cleared his throat, "And that makes you hate me?"

A subtle curl formed at a corner of her full lips, which pulled over her tiny tusks. "On the contrary," she hummed. "I fear you. I fear what you can do."

"Just like you fear my father?" Levianath asked curiously.

"That's different. I respect him. You, however? You've got a ways to go."

He smiled, allowing the expression to be genuine. "Respect is a mutual virtue, you know."

"True," she nodded. "Then how about you start by not catching this ship on fire, and I'll start by not breathing down your neck."

Levianath smirked slyly, eyes flashing with humor. "Well if you're close enough to be breathing down my neck, I think our time could be spent together in a far better fashion."

She sent him a warning look, and he just laughed.

"Hey, you fill me with whisky, this is your own doing," he reasoned playfully. "Plus, I can't help it. Imagine seeing that much exotic attractiveness whipped up into one single person, and being expected to act like it's not there," he motioned to all of her.

"I'd have thought the truth salts would've worn off by now," she murmured.

"Oh, they wore off about two hours ago."

"So the thing with the fire?" she appeared amused, if scolding.

"All me, Baby," he winked at her.

Surprisingly, a smile broke across her face, one she obviously tried to stave but failed.

"And look at that, she smiles," he grinned, eyes sparking.

"You're not doing yourself any favors," she gave him a look, which he was pretty sure was a joking one, but couldn't tell. That was the thing with her; he couldn't read her, not like other people.

"Either way, we're still doing far better than we were thirty minutes ago," Levianath hummed. "This ship would probably be ashes if not for our two acrobats interrupting us out there."

"I wonder how he's doing by the way," Fiammetta murmured, refilling her glass a third time as if the previous two had been nothing. These trolls could drink anyone under the table.

"Dislocated ankle..." Levianath frowned. "I hope his abilities are strong enough to heal it."

"We could find a healer in the town," Fiammetta suggested.

"And if nothing else, he has his own personal butler," Levianath chuckled.

"Reece adores that boy," she mused. "I've never seen her become so attached to someone so quickly. Does Julian know she's a she?"

"I let it slip with the salts. I have no idea if she knows that he knows, though."

Fiammetta grimaced. "I'll admit, I am sorry about the truth salts. I wish it hadn't reached that point."

He just shrugged wordlessly, and things became quiet for a moment. Fiammetta spoke again.

"So how did you two end up as friends?" she asked about Julian.

He gave a partial smile. "I ask myself that all the time."

"You are polar opposites."

"I wouldn't go that far," he tilted his head in thought, taking a drink. "I'm beginning to think we're more similar than I initially believed."

"Brothers in all but blood?" she asked.

"No, no," Levianath shook his head quickly. "Oh, it'd be an insult for me to call him my brother, to group him with those siblings of mine. I like to think of Julian and myself as accomplices."

"That makes you both sound sinister."

"Anything is better than brothers."

"How about just calling him your friend?" she gave him a whimsical smile, which caught him again off-guard. Every time she smiled, it was like a burst of bright light in an otherwise dark room.

"I can do that, too," Levianath's eyes danced. "After everything we've been through, I sort of feel responsible for him."

"Same goes for Reece and me," Fiammetta said softly, her voice almost holding subtle affection.

Their eyes met for a few seconds, and Levianath was surprisingly the first to finally look away. Something about her gaze gave him odd flutters in his chest that he didn't recognize, and it made him feel exposed, vulnerable. She could see everything in his head, like she already knew everything about him. It was disconcerting; normally it was he who could analyze everyone else. The things she had said about him earlier had been eerily spot-on, too, which had shaken him a little. If anything, _he_ feared _her_.

Fiammetta spoke again, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on him. "I think that Reece and Julian have a harmony that most people never get the chance to discover. I will be sad to see them part ways next month. I don't know if either of them realize how rare their connection is, and I fear they won't until Julian leaves."

"What are you saying?" Levianath asked amusingly.

"I'm saying that maybe if we give them both a little push, they may have a chance with each other."

"You really think they're romantically-suited?"

"I have no doubt about it, actually," Fiammetta smirked. "Julian doesn't have anyone back home, does he?"

"Well, there's Lily," Levianath murmured. "But I have no idea how serious that actually is. I think it's pretty one-sided, from what I witnessed."

He was surprised he was even having a conversation like this. Without the whisky, he was certain it never would have taken place, but he wouldn't complain. He'd much rather share friendly discussion with her than the alternative.

"So," Levianath said after a few seconds of pause, sending the woman a sly smirk and sitting forward. "A little push, eh? What do you have in mind?"

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

Julian awoke to a pressure in his ankle and the sound of someone's boots hitting against the wooden floor. He shifted slightly and immediately regretted doing so. The movement sent a vivid jolt of pain straight up his leg and downward into his toes, and he winced, gritting his teeth together. He sat himself up on his elbows and glanced around, realizing he was down in the room Reece had set aside for him. It was a tiny, tiny room, only big enough for a bed and an itty bitty table that barely fit between the bed and the opposite wall. One small lamp was lit on the table, casting a subtle, warm light onto everything.

He looked down at his feet and saw that his ankle, his right one, had been wrapped up in stiff bandages and splinted to deter from too much movement. He wondered what'd happened to have made him fall asleep like he did; last he could remember was incredible pain, then Reece drawing his face to hers, and that'd been it. So maybe she'd put him to sleep? Or had he passed out from the pain? For some people, that might be considered embarrassing. Julian rarely ever became embarrassed, though.

If Reece _had_ put him to sleep, this meant she had some form of magic behind her belt.

Speaking of whom, the girl must have heard Julian's hiss of pain when he woke or something, because she poked her head in his door, noticed that he was awake, and let herself in. She sat down on the side of his bed, careful not to bounce his foot.

"How's the ankle?" she asked, voice as cheerful as ever.

Julian couldn't help but smile at her. "Hurts like the dickens, but I'm not supposed to tell you that sort of thing, am I?"

"Hey, you can tell me literally anything and I won't judge," Reece smirked. "You dislocated your ankle by saving my life. I think you're entitled to a little sympathy."

"Saving your life?" Julian snickered. "You make me sound heroic."

Reece's smile remained bright despite the seriousness in her eyes. "I could've died. You saved my life."

He tilted his head. "Well, we're lucky it worked out the way it did, then, huh?"

Again he caught a smile on her lips, and Julian watched her for a moment as things became quiet. He intently studied her face, which he noticed made her visibly uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't fathom. Her eyes drifted from his as he stared at her, and they refused to return, becoming fixated on the nearby table. He watched her chew her lower lip and momentarily lost himself in observing the action, but then focused again. He smiled playfully.

"If nothing else, I did learn a valuable lesson."

She finally looked back at him, all of the awkwardness leaving her demeanor immediately. "Oh?"

"Yes," he smirked. "If I ever see that someone has started a fire down on deck while I am currently up climbing the topsails, I should _not_ attempt to put the fire out with frost spells."

Reece grinned. "Because the frost spells could backfire and instead freeze the mast."

He nodded back. "And that mast could crack."

"And we could all plummet to our deaths!" Reece said enthusiastically.

"Hooray!" Julian cheered, laughing, and she giggled, too.

They quieted again, and a few seconds passed. Reece shifted on the bed beside him, sitting on the backs of her hands. She stared at her knees for a moment, and Julian observed her quietly.

Unexpectedly, she spoke up, her voice sounding carefree, but Julian could've sworn he caught something else hidden beneath it.

"Who is Lily?" she asked simply, curiously.

He blinked, mind jumping back to the topic of the missing girl. Lily. He hadn't allowed himself to give more than a few seconds of thought to her this entire time; it scared him to think about where she was, what'd happened to her. He'd been avoiding the entire subject.

He sucked in a deep breath, realizing Reece was watching him with her chocolate eyes.

"Lily... is..." he thought hard to come up with the right words. "Um, well, she's a friend of mine, a girl from my tribe. She was taken to a labor camp like Lev and I were, I think. A different one. I haven't seen her since I was last in Stormwind. I worry whether she's okay."

"Oh," Reece nodded nonchalantly. "What's she like?"

Julian's mouth formed a smirk, and he sat up a little straighter, still using his elbows as support. "She's got this... cool hair," he hummed. "And her eyes are like..." he made a few shrug-like gestures. "And when she laughs, I dunno. She has that...smile, you know?"

Reece stared at him blankly. "I honestly have absolutely no idea how to imagine her right now," she began to laugh.

Julian laughed a little, too. "Right, sorry. Well, she's got blue hair, bright, big eyes, she's tall..."

Reece continued to stare at him, as if she expected him to keep going, but that's all he could come up with.

"And, I donno," he shrugged again. "That's Lily."

"You literally just described what she looks like, and that's it," Reece said finally, smirking at him.

Julian held his palms up in a defensive shrug. "How else am I supposed to describe her?" he couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face.

Reece began to giggle. "Oh, I dunno, maybe... Is she...nice? Does she get along with others? Does she like or dislike seafood?"

"Seafood?"

"You're missing my point," Reece nudged him on the arm.

Julian sniffed. "Well, I mean, yeah, she's pretty nice, I guess."

Reece waited for him to go on, and he just started laughing uncertainly.

"What?"

Reece hopelessly threw her hands in the air and just shook her head at him teasingly. "You are impossible, Julian."

"I'm sorry!" he laughed. "In my defense, you are being very confusing, Reece."

She sighed and cocked her head at him. "You said she's your friend. Those people earlier acted like she meant a lot to you, but you talk like you barely actually know her."

"I know her," he said defensively.

Reece folded her arms. "Prove it."

"Well-!" Julian began, and then realized he had no follow-up.

He folded his arms too, having to sit up straight so he didn't fall back into his pillows, and now their faces were now merely a foot apart. Julian couldn't help but notice how long her eyelashes were now that he was this close; half the time, at least one of her eyes were covered with her messy hair and he'd never observed this closely. The pools of her eyes were murky brown but also exhilarating, just like a rich cup of coffee is dark but packs so much energy behind it.

"Well what?" she goaded, interrupting his moment, lifting her chin and looking defiant and playful.

"I'm just...not very good at describing people," Julian leaned back on his hands.

Reece cocked her head. "Okay then, describe me."

"Um," Julian swallowed, staring at her again. Her freckled cheeks were kissed by the sun and her dark, messy hair had streaks of lighter brown from natural bleaching, catching the flickering of the lamp on the table nearby. Her mouth formed a teasing smirk, her lips partially chapped from the salt of the ocean and the weather. This girl was the goofiest person he'd ever encountered, so carefree and straightforward and _real. _She was the first person he had met who shared his passion for life and excitement for all it had to offer. Like himself, her curiosity and spirit soared far above that of most people. He knew that through her outer, whimsical demeanor lay a deeper side of her, some sort of rich inner life which she showed to no one else.

Her eyes flicked between his, and he tried to speak but realized he'd clammed up. What _could_ he say? Anything he wanted to say right now would give away that he knew she was a girl, and he still hadn't figured out how to break that to her.

Julian kept watching her, losing words as he studied her face, which was far softer than he'd initially observed. Her skin, although dirty and freckled, held this youthful glow, and the way she was grinning at him right now made him freeze, his eyes falling on her smile.

It was in this exact moment that Julian realized how much he wanted to kiss that smile she gave him, and in that moment, he instantly felt terrified. His heart suddenly pumped in his chest, and he sucked in a breath. He couldn't kiss her, because he hadn't yet told her he knew she was a girl. He couldn't kiss her, because he hadn't realized until right now that he even _wanted_ to. He wouldn't kiss her, because he felt like she didn't want him to. There had to be a reason she was pretending to be a boy on this ship.

What in the world was going on with him? Here they were talking about Lily, the girl he'd had a crush on for _years_, and his first response was directing that crush toward someone who could easily be Lily's exact opposite in every possible way. Lily was this stunning, graceful, and soft elf, whereas Reece was this loud, boyish, short, skinny, round-eared human with dirt on her nose and pants that were too big.

But, in some strange way, as Julian's eyes flicked back to her sitting on his bed, he suddenly realized that she just might be the most attractive being he'd ever seen in his life.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: a distraction, for both their sake. Reece had begun to look a little suspicious at his silence, so he shifted his bad foot on purpose, and promptly felt shooting pain jolt up his leg.

He let out a sharp, almost involuntary yelp of pain. Reece stood immediately from the bed, looking at his foot.

"Why'd you move it?" she asked him in bewilderment, and he was still cringing in pain.

"I uh," he grunted, leaning forward to look at it. "I'm gonna try to heal it a little."

"You can heal?" Reece asked, curiosity heightening to the next level, and Julian knew his sacrifice had worked. Crisis averted.

"A little, yeah," Julian reached forward and drew a mild healing spell into his hand, and Reece's eyes widened as she watched. He brought the heal to his ankle and immediately felt its effects seeping into the torn, swollen tissues. He knit what he could back together, and although it was only about five seconds' worth of magic that he could generate right now, it was worth it. The swelling had reduced, and the bandages had become looser. It hurt a little, but it was more of an ache than a sharp throb.

Julian sat back, leaning his hands against the mattress behind himself, and looked at Reece.

"And I have a feeling I'm not the only one in this room who can do magic, by the way," he said, cocking his head at her, and she folded her hands behind her back innocently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she hummed.

"So, out there on deck when you somehow put me to sleep, what was that?"

"Oh, I just punched you so hard you didn't even feel it, and it knocked you out."

Julian laughed. "You liar. I felt magic."

Reece shrugged, keeping her smirking mouth shut.

He gave up and just laughed. "Fine, fine. I don't know why you'd keep that a secret, but fine." He gave her a look. "However, I will have you know that I am very good at keeping secrets."

He watched her as she began to put up invisible walls.

"Julian, you don't have any secrets," she giggled as she sat down beside him again.

"Yes huh!" he retorted, "I have many."

She clearly did not believe him, so he sat up a little straighter, able to move his ankle now without it trying to kill him.

"Don't believe me?" He took in a breath. "One time when I was seven, I used the old hot-water trick on my sister when she was sleeping and made her wet the bed every night for a whole week, and they still don't know it was because of me."

Reece looked about to retort, but Julian kept going. "One time, a few years ago, I kept a baby green ooze under my bed for _months_ and nobody found out - until I told my sister, of course - and I almost died. I would've kept THAT secret to the grave."

"You almost died?" Reece lifted her brows.

Julian just smirked and continued his point, speaking so fast that Reece had no chance of getting a word in. "Let's see... I secretly like dogs more than cats, and I don't know how the rest of my tribe would feel about that. Sometimes, I climb trees with no pants so I can feel the breeze, and this one time I read my sister's diary and convinced her I could read minds. Oh! And one time-"

Reece burst out laughing. "What was that one?"

"I like dogs more than cats?" Julian smirked, messing with her. He'd put the 'pants' one in just to make sure she was paying attention.

"No, that other one."

"I convinced my sister that I could re-"

"Nevermind!" she chuckled. "Those aren't secrets. Those are confessions."

"Well, then, now you know that if you have anything to confess, I can keep it a secret."

"Just like you kept all of those secrets?"

Julian just squinted his eyes at her. "You know what I mean, Black."

"Oh, so now we're referring to one another by our last names? Okay, what's yours?"

"Silverpaw," Julian hummed. "I thought you'd have deduced that after seeing my dad."

Reece just shrugged. "What, is he royalty or something? I've never heard of him."

Julian smiled. "No, I guess not."

Reece opened her mouth to speak, but the door then opened, and Julian brightened when he saw Levianath peek his head in.

"Hey, kid," Levianath said calmly, walking in and sending Julian a partial smile. "Good to see you're faring better."

Julian grinned brightly. He hadn't really spoken to Levianath since the man had been drugged. To be honest, he'd been afraid to talk to him. Julian didn't deal well with people who were angry or upset; he didn't know how to help them other than exude happiness, and in the inn, Levianath's anger had rubbed off on Julian. But, when Levianath leaned against the table by Julian's bed, he didn't seem angry or upset in the slightest. If anything, he looked content, and maybe just a little tiny bit drunk.

He tilted his head to look at Julian's ankle. "That needs to be re-wrapped. Reece, could you fetch some more clean linen please?"

Reece nodded and went without question, leaving just the two guys in the room.

Julian looked at his foot. "Why can't we just use the bandages that are already on it? It doesn't need new ones."

"I know," Levianath smirked. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About Reece."

Julian felt his interest heighten, and he subconsciously leaned forward.

Levianath smiled at this. "You like her?"

Julian nodded. "She's great."

"Have you told her you know she's a girl yet?"

"No, I'm honestly not sure how to."

"So saying, 'Hey Reece, Levianath told me your secret when he was drugged,' isn't working for you?" Levianath laughed.

Julian smirked. "I feel like it isn't that simple. There's got to be a reason she's pretending to be a guy, and I feel like if I tell her then it'll ruin what we have so far."

Levianath sniffed. "Maybe, but that shouldn't keep you from letting her know you know the truth. The only thing you're doing when you come up with reasons to not tell her is making decisions in her place about how she'll take it. You know, she may not even care."

"And if she does?"

"And if she does, I'm entirely positive she will not blame you."

Julian thought on that for a little while, and Levianath spoke up again.

"And I'm definitely not one to rush things, but you've only got a month left with her. Do you really want to spend that time taxing all of your energy into lying to her, or would you rather just have everything out in the open now and save the trouble?"

"I'm not lying to her," Julian replied in confusion.

"By keeping that from her, pretending that you don't know and treating her differently, you actually are." Levianath peered at the lamp beside him thoughtfully, staring at the flame. "And of course I am not one to look down upon lying. I simply acknowledge that it can be a very draining task and do not think it wise that you spend all your time here focused on the wrong aspect of your relationship with her. Not to mention it'll save her the trouble as well."

Julian laughed. "My relationship with her?"

Levianath smiled back at him. "I'm just saying..." he paused, "You will have the opportunity to leave here in one month for good. You may never see her again. Play your cards right, and things may end differently."

A small silence fell as Julian contemplated Levianath's words. Did he really want to waste this entire time experiencing what he'd just experienced with her ten minutes ago? Or did he want to act on it?

Levianath continued, "And by not doing anything about it, you're not only limiting yourself, but her as well."

Julian thought about that for about ten seconds' worth of silence, and then their conversation was cut short when Reece re-entered the room.

She began to tend to Julian's foot. She was so careful that he barely felt it when she re-splinted and re-wrapped his not-so-swollen ankle. As she finished, Julian yawned widely. He wasn't sure how long he had slept due to her spell, but before it, he had stayed up all night and almost all day. He was ready for a nap.

Levianath and Reece must have picked up on that, because they made him lie down, and Levianath blew out the lamp. When they both left the room, Julian was already asleep.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

As they exited Julian's tiny cabin, Levianath peered down at Reece. She seemed bright as ever, if a bit tired, too.

"So, Reece," Levianath hummed as they walked past a few unloaded cannons and then stopped next to the stairs beneath the main hatch.

"Hmm?"

Levianath tilted his head to give her a contemplative look, folding his arms. "Mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"That depends," Reece shrugged, and crossed her arms too, leaning against a beam. "What's the question?"

Levianath smiled slightly. "Why the disguise? There are already women on this ship; what's the point?"

Reece chewed the inside of her cheek, sobering up surprisingly fast. Levianath realized he'd touched a nerve, but continued anyway, hoping her sudden vulnerability might help her to open up to him.

"You running from something?" he eyed her.

"Try some_one_," Reece corrected, her eyes falling to the side. "Family."

Levianath let out a soundless chuckle and leaned back against the wooden wall behind him, letting his head rest against it as well. "You and me both, kid."

Reece peered up at him. "How come you are?"

"Where do I start? I've got a lifetime of reasons to hate my relatives." Levianath said humorlessly as unpleasant memories began to resurface. "You know, one time when I was seven, my older brothers tried to drown me in the Stormwind canals? I only survived because they got caught by the guards. They got off with warnings."

He caught her eyes staring at him intently. She seemed like she wanted to talk but was hesitant, so he spoke again.

"I have experienced a lifetime of dodging bad people. Reece, if there's anyone who'd best understand whatever it is you've got hidden in that head of yours, it's me. Plus, I'm curious. I won't quit badgering you 'til you tell me." He winked at her.

Reece took a breath, laughed a little, and then uncrossed her arms. "You want the long story or the short one?"

Levianath just shrugged. "Whatever you feel like giving."

She licked her lower lip, staring at the steps that led up to the main deck. "You said your brothers tried to drown you..." She paused for a moment, and then tilted her head to look back at Levianath. "I had an older brother too. Only difference is, he's the reason I'm still alive."

He simply waited for her to keep going, so she did after a few seconds' hesitation.

"My parents were... sick," she said in a way that gave Levianath the idea that her word choice wasn't as accurate as it could've been. "Some people are just broken, you know? And in their case, it was because of a bad mixture of arcane magic, booze, and bad genes. Or at least, that's what I tell myself. It's what my brother told me."

Levianath watched her as she inhaled slowly, as if talking about this was bringing back something unpleasant. He cocked his head at her.

"What do you mean by 'sick'?"

She bit her lip. "They wouldn't act themselves when they got angry, and that happened a lot. Usually a lot more when they drank, which was almost always." A pause, and she cocked her head to peer at him sideways. "Have you ever seen that before? People completely changing the moment they get even one drink in their system?"

Levianath glanced down. "Yes, I have seen that."

"Well, that's what they were like, and it was amplified when they'd dose up on Arcane. They acted as if they were taken over by someone else entirely. They'd yell and break things and attack us, and then the next morning it was like nothing happened at all, or if something did happen, it was my brother's and my fault. They would remember it completely wrong. It got to the point of where after two years of trying to convince me, my big brother finally talked me into running away with him. We had this whole plan, too: drug our parents with a sleeping draught, and slip away in the night."

Levianath felt his heart begin to sink, understanding what it was Reece was talking about. He sighed. "So what happened next?"

"We got caught while making the potion itself. My dad found us in the cellar and got extremely angry. I remember him hitting my brother really hard and trying to hit me, but I dodged him. So he reached down and picked up the cauldron and threw the whole thing at me, boiling chemicals and all. My brother jumped in front of me and protected me from most of it, but he..."

She broke off, eyes gaining a haunted look to them.

Levianath finished it for her. "But...it killed him?"

She looked up at him and nodded quietly.

"He sacrificed himself so I could get away. I remember the last thing we had planned to do was to change our names, identities, and run. So that's what I did. I ran all the way from Darkshire to Stranglethorn and stowed away on a ship. That ship just so happened to be this one, and the person that found me was Fiammetta. I was afraid she'd kick me out, but she did the opposite. Never asked any questions, just let me stay as long as I worked. It was a long time before I told her everything that had happened with me and my brother and parents."

Levianath thought awhile in silence, the only sounds being those of muffled voices and seagulls. "What was your brother's name?"

She smiled. "Reece."

"Ah," he smiled back. "Starting to make sense now. You took up his identity?"

"Only his first name. I made up the surname, Black."

"Mind if I ask your real name?" Levianath tilted his head.

She shrugged. "My name is Reece Black. That's all that matters."

A smile grew on his face, and she mirrored him. He let out a laugh. "Alright then. How many people know your story?"

"Three. Captain Darkrunner, Fiammetta, and now you. I haven't told any of the crew because I don't want word about it getting out. Don't want my parents to find me."

Levianath lifted his brows. "I am surprised you told me and not Julian."

Her eyes flicked downward almost guiltily. "Well, you already knew my secret."

He took a subtle step forward. "Reece, I think you should tell him the truth about you. At least let him know your real gender."

"What if he gets upset about it?"

"Something gives me the idea he won't."

Reece still looked hesitant, and Levianath smirked.

"And you know he wont say anything to anyone. He wouldn't risk hurting you. Honestly, can you picture that kid hurting _anyone_? There's not a bad bone in his body. He'll understand. I can say in complete faith that he will."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Levianath laughed. "And you have nothing to worry about with him, alright? He _really_ likes you, kid."

Reece brightened into a full grin. "You think so?"

"I know so. Now you should probably go get some rest, too." Levianath patted her on the shoulder. "Been a long day."

Unexpectedly, instead of leaving, the now-grinning teen suddenly threw her wiry arms around him in a tight hug. Levianath tensed at the spontaneity and sudden contact, but quickly adjusted and laughed a little when she released him.

"I'm glad you know," Reece said cheerfully.

He nodded at her almost cordially, and with that she took off in a brisk jog toward the other sections that housed the crewmembers. He was surprised at the trust she'd given to him, and surprised at the protectiveness that had taken over now at the thought of her. First Julian, and now this goofy kid. What next?

The dark half-elf began to hum a quiet tune to himself as he meandered his way back up to the main deck, hands in the pockets of the clothes he'd been gifted with earlier. He wore an off-white, loose shirt, which billowed out the second he reached the fresh air. The sea wind pulled at his hair and clothing, and he took a deep breath through his nose, relishing the sudden sense of freedom he felt. If he truly wanted to, he was free to leave, right here, right now. He could go back to Stormwind, take his money out, and take off. Disappear. It was a tempting idea. No one was stopping him.

However he also felt strangely invested in this ship now. If nothing else, staying here for what little time he could would be entertaining, engaging, and possibly even fun. This was the first time he'd been around a group of people and hadn't been dying to escape them. It was a foreign feeling, and he wanted to explore it.

And, if that all turned out to be rubbish, he could always disappear.

He leaned on the railing at the edge of the deck, peering out over the water where the sun had begun to make its descent toward the horizon. The smooth surface of the ocean flickered with the orange light and all the scattered, layered clouds in the sky were painted pink, red, orange and gold. The giant green fronds of palm trees rustled on the shore, and once in a while an echoing, distant squawk of one animal or another carried out through the forest and over the water.

On the ship, the sailors were all taking their break after weeks of work. Now that the ship was anchored off-shore and wouldn't be going anywhere for at least a little while, they were allowed to have their fun or to go off and spend the evening in Booty Bay. Levianath could hear a loud crowd below deck shouting merrily about a board game tournament in progress, and he also heard singing and a lot of scuffling, which he deduced was the sound of the drunken pirates dancing and/or brawling. He had half a guess that Julian might be in the mix of all that, if not for the boy sleeping.

A door closing from the cabin beside him caused him to turn his head, and he saw Fiammetta walk out and glance in his direction. Their eyes met, and Levianath sent her a confident smirk, and then returned his gaze to the sea. He heard her footsteps approach until she was beside him, and he spoke while still gazing forward.

"Wouldn't happen to have any leaf on you, would you?" he requested casually.

She cocked her head. "You mean a cigarette?"

He just shrugged. "Haven't touched one in far too long."

"I'm sure at least one of the crew can spot you one, if you have means of payment."

"Eh," he waived it off, "slavers took everything I had. It's not important anyway." He flicked his eyes to her, noting how the orange sunlight ignited the entire contour of her trollish face in a vivid glow, as well as her navy hair. He stared at her for a moment before looking back over the water. "It's getting late."

She stood up straight again. "And I need to manage some trading in town before we weigh anchor. This ship needs repairs, and we've got a lot of cargo down there worth a lot to the right buyers."

"Cargo?"

"Sugar, salt, metal, rum," she listed. "The usual."

"Achieved by what means?" Levianath asked playfully.

A smirk flickered beside her small tusks. "You know the definition of piracy."

"So you definitely are pirates, then?" He turned around, practically sitting on the rails now to look at her fully.

"Yes, but we only loot from those who have enough to spare. Never the small or private operations. Wouldn't want to get the law on our tail, and especially not hunters. But a brig full of goods here and there is enough to bring in money to pay the whole crew, and have some to spare. It takes selective judgment to know when to steal and when to pass."

"You been doing it for long?"

"My entire life," she said, which surprised him. "I was born into it, actually. My father was the best pirate I've ever known; Darkrunner being second only to him."

"And your father was...?"

"A man of both honor and infamy. I used to like to think I took after him, but as time passes I realize how much more similar I am to my mother."

Levianath shifted his stance, hips cocking partially as he went from sitting to slightly leaning against the railing. "They raised you on the sea?"

"Yes; as much as they could, at least."

"What do you mean by that?"

"They were constantly busy, not to mention I was a difficult child, but I suppose that's the case for most trolls."

Levianath let out a laugh. "Ah, yes. Never underestimate the fire that is a troll."

She laughed as well, a sound that made Levianath's thoughts falter for a moment. Her voice was playful. "You know it wasn't until they put me in the permanent care of my godfather that I began to mellow out."

"How old were you then?"

"Fourteen."

He laughed out loud again. "And here I always thought it was the other way around. Normally teen years signify the opposite of 'mellowing out'. Who was your godfather?"

She coughed. "Guess."

He shook his head, hands out in a shrug. "Drawing a blank."

"Well, who's the captain of this ship?"

Levianath's brows lowered. "You can't be serious."

Her smirk grew. "I told you I knew him well."

Levianath stood up straight. "You're full of surprises, first mate."

She returned with a tilt of her head, her red eyes almost glowing as they caught the setting sunlight. "Catch me at another time like this and I just might tell you a little more."

"I'll hold you to that," he replied, flashing a smile.

She blinked once, and then turned, making her way to the ship's wheel and barking out a few orders to the crew. It wasn't long before the ship had been returned to the docks, and Levianath, instead of venturing out into the bay to spend the rest of the evening doing who knows what, went straight into the captain's cabin and fell asleep.

* * *

**We get to see what Lily is up to soon. **

**Also coming up: brawls, bonding, and more explosions. **

**:D**


End file.
